


Slow Burn

by Tia



Series: Slow Burn - the series [1]
Category: Chicago Fire, Chicago Med, Chicago PD, One Chicago
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Firehouse 51 as Family (Chicago Fire), Friends to Lovers, Not Canon Compliant, Not Dawson friendly, Season 8, Slow Burn, season 7
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:21:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 73,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23194648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tia/pseuds/Tia
Summary: STORY ON INDEFINITE HIATUS: Please read last chapter Author's note.
Relationships: Emily Foster & Matthew Casey Friendship, Matthew Casey & Kelly Severide, Stella Kidd/Kelly Severide, Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Series: Slow Burn - the series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667530
Comments: 155
Kudos: 307





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story starts before Season 8, about two months after the ARNOW fire, which I have set to be in December. This puts the auction in February, and Brett comes back March/April. The Cruz wedding is set for July, and everything else follows accordingly. If something major doesn’t make sense, please let me know, but also take into consideration tv show timeline fluidity and just go with it 😉
> 
> Also,  
> 1) it is NOT Dawson friendly, since I needed a protagonist and she was an easy choice.  
> 2) Despite what goes on in the couple of chapters, the tags don't lie - this is a Foster/Casey FRIENDSHIP only story, with endgame being Brett/Casey. I promise.  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So in editing other chapters I accidentally deleted the first one! Ugh, technology!

“Casey, Severride, Cruz, and Ritter. My office, please, before you head out.”

The four firefighters exchanged puzzled glances before obediently following the Chief to his office. Casey took his usual spot, leaning against the wall by the windows, with Ritter next to him, while Severride and Cruz took the chairs in front of the desk, feeling a bit like kids being called into the principal’s office. Boden was last in, closing the door before settling back in his chair with a sigh.

“Have any of you been following the…antics of House 72?”

Cruz grinned, his face lighting up with humor. “Chloe got her entire office to buy twenty calendars and make an official donation in Otis’s name to the 100 Club,” he said proudly. “Although, I had to convince her to leave her copy at work. That’s more than I ever needed to see of those goofballs over there.”

The others relaxed slightly, snickering. The exploits of House 72 had been the cause of much ridicule and ball busting when the guys had finally dared to show their faces at Molly’s, but the calendar had raised much needed funds.

“Well the Office of Public Relations, against all predictability, has been…inspired by the success of 73,” Boden said dryly. “As you all know, the CFD charity ball is coming up. As of now, per Chief Huffhind’s enthusiastic recommendation, it is now a Valentine themed event…and will include a charity singles auction.”

All four jaws dropped.

“Non married officers are required to participate,” the Chief continued grimly. “And a member of each unit is strongly encouraged to volunteer as well, with no more than four persons from each house.”

“What?!?!”

Boden waited out the storm of protests and commentary before raising his brows, meeting Casey’s and Severride’s gazes first before travelling to the other two. “I know that you four will represent 51 to the best of your ability for this good cause.”

That silenced them instantly. He nodded, satisfied. “Dismissed.”

Grumbling, they filed out. Ritter was already on his phone, reading through the website about the event. “This isn’t going to be a simple matter of pooling our resources and getting our partners – or friends – to buy us,” he frowned as they trudged outside to their cars. “We are going to need to be strategic about it.”

Casey, Cruz, and Severride exchanged a grim look. “We are not meeting at Molly’s,” Cruz said as Casey opened his mouth. “Let’s not encourage the ball busting from everyone all at once, yeah?”

The storm of muttered curses he got was more than enough of an agreement.

“Fine.” Severride said grimly. “My place, five o’clock. Cruz, bring Chloe. Ritter, bring Eric-“ he stopped as the younger man shook his head.

“He’s out of town for work. Lots of people trying to get out of Chicago right now and it’s only going to get worse for Valentine’s Day in a couple of weeks,” he explained. “But I’ll bring him up to speed so he can at least start crunching numbers and see what we’ve got as far as funds to play with.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Casey reassured him, clapping him on the shoulder. “See you guys tonight.”

When they finally got back together later that night, Cruz had brought both Chloe and Emily with him, the paramedic having moved into Brett’s old room to help with rent and share expenses. Chloe would be moving into the apartment as well after the wedding, but she and Emily were talking about just switching places since she had a one bedroom in a prime location and was grandfathered in to her rent price.

Stella passed out beers as they all trooped into the apartment, sharing a commiserating grimace with the other women. They all settled in, a bit grimly. Ritter was the first to speak.

“Eric’s not happy, but he’s resigned to it,” he said with a sigh, glancing at Emily, who offered him a commiserating smile. “There’s nothing on the website about bidders buying more than one participant, so Emily and Chloe have got him covered for the actual bidding portion.” He shook his head. “CFD has come a long way in recognizing and acknowledging gay and bi firefighters, but it’s still mainly run by the good ol’ boys club.” He blew out a breath, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Usually I would protest, but I don’t want to take away from the cause.”

Casey, Cruz, and Severride exchanged a look, hearing Shay’s scolding voice and seeing her reproachful blue eyes in the back of their minds.

“You tell Eric that we expect to see him there front and center, and if he doesn’t bid on us too then we will be highly insulted,” Severride said firmly, meeting and holding the younger man’s gaze. “CFD and Public Relations can deal with the repercussions, if there are any. Not your problem or responsibility.”

Ritter nodded slowly, relaxing. “Thanks. I’ll tell him.”

“Well, if you guys are absolutely required to do this, then there’s no reason why we can’t have some fun with it,” Chloe offered from Cruz’s lap. “We can mix it up a bit, pool our resources as far as bidding goes, and then plan some group outing for the actual date thing.” She winked at Kidd, who grinned. “Safety in numbers, especially with all of you strapping firefighters, but you can advertise it that way too, build up publicity. The Fab Four of 51.”

Matching smiles slowly dawned on the guys’ faces.

“Chloe, you are an absolute genius!” Casey crowed, pulling her up out of Cruz’s lap and twirling her around as she squealed with laughter and clutched his shoulders.

In the background, Severride was smirking as he watched his friend’s antics. He knew better than anyone exactly why Casey was so relieved. The ball was a high profile event, so there was no way that Beth Pritchens and her technically ex-husband wouldn’t be there.

The Chief had been reassigned to another district and a smaller, slower house, but that had only given him more time for politicking. He had worked his way back up the ladder, and Beth, of course, hadn’t been able to resist the social status change and advancement. The only difference now was that they had turned her wandering eye and his jealousy into a sexual game, according to rumor, and both men knew that Casey would be a prime revenge target for them.

No need to share that with the rest of the group though. Casey put a flushed Chloe down. She staggered dramatically, pretending to swoon, only to grab at his biceps and squeeze before going for the hem of his shirt as he laughed and fended her off. Emily’s laughter was the loudest, knowing exactly what her friend was doing.

“Joe, I love you dearly, but ladies can we just take a minute here?” Chloe teased, still trying to lift his shirt up to check out his abs. “We’re seriously going to have to pass the boot for supplementary funds for this auction, because damn.”

“Cruz, your fiancé is getting awfully handsy over here,” Casey complained, still fending her off.

“Yeah, she does that.” Cruz shrugged, unconcerned. “Chloe, sweetheart, stop trying to feel up Captain America over there. Look away from the baby blues and the abs. Look away.”

She giggled as Casey finally caught her hands and twirled her, crossing her arms in front of her before picking her up and depositing her on her fiancé’s lap and escaping to sit safely behind Emily, who snickered at him.

“Captain America?”

“Otis started it,” Stella explained fondly. “Became a running joke on Truck, you know, as a sign of respect.” She grinned as Casey grumbled. “Maybe when Casey doesn’t do something ridiculously heroic for say, three shifts in a row, then we might change or drop it, but until then…”

“And it also appeased Capp-with-a-p, since we were now differentiating between him and Capt-with-a-t,” Severride added, never one to miss an opportunity to poke at his friend.

“Can we please get back to talking about the auction?” Casey sighed, shaking his head. “Ritter, does it say anything in the rules about participants offering a group or double date package type thing?”

The other man obligingly scrolled through the website, only to grimace. “Yeah. Participants will be auctioned individually, to give bidders an equal chance.”

The group slumped in disappointment. Individual meant that they would have to ration their funds carefully to cover all four men.

“Well, we can still hit up our friends at Med and in CPD,” Emily offered after a minute. “I don’t think we can be so blatant as to pass the boot or put out a jar, but I’m sure we can come up with enough to cover all of you.”

Further research proved more problems. Participants would be hitting the stage in reverse order of rank – Ritter and Cruz first, then Severride as a Lieutenant, and Casey last among the Captains.

“Guys, I don’t mind being a date casualty for a good cause,” Casey finally said in exasperation. “Of course I would prefer a night out with a friend instead of a stranger, but it’s really not that serious.” He shot Severride a hard warning look. “Anything else, I’ll deal with if it comes up.” The others recognized his resolute tone; this was Captain Casey issuing an order for them to stand down. “It’s late,” he continued more gently. “And absence makes the heart grow fonder, so go away so I can miss you.”

“Aww, Capt,” Cruz teased. “You love us. You really love us.”

“Go away, Cruz.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” Foster and Ritter snapped off cheeky salutes with matching grins.

“Insubordinates, all of you. Seriously, get out.” Casey rolled his eyes, herding them towards the door.

Chloe ducked around him to give Stella and Emily a hug good bye. “Thanks for including me tonight,” she said, smiling a bit wistfully. “Joe tells me all the time that you guys are his family, so it’s nice to know that I will actually get along with the in laws.”

“Yeah well, you just gained a bunch of annoying, overbearing, bossy older brother types, so welcome to the family,” Emily rolled her eyes teasingly at Severride. “Watch out for this one. He’s the worst of the lot.”

“Hey, unlike Casey, I can say no to pretty paramedics,” Severride retorted.

She snorted. “Challenge accepted.”

He groaned theatrically as Stella whooped and gave her a high five. Casey threw his head back and laughed. “You’re doomed, Sev.”

“Do not give her any ideas,” he warned, although he was smiling reluctantly at his friend’s teasing, especially since Casey had been so subdued lately. “Go away, Foster, Cruz. Night, Chloe.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Charity Auction.

_Two weeks later._

The CFD Charity Ball and Singles Auction was turning out to be a rousing success, both in terms of funds and for the crew at 51 personally. Their plan was working so far, with Eric, Stella, and Chloe all able to buy their men without too many contenders vying for a shot.

Severride watched from just off stage as Casey reluctantly walked the length of the stage to join the auctioneer, who was busy extolling all of his awards and commendations. The firefighter planted his feet and stood at parade rest, stoically handsome in his dark suit, as the bidding quickly climbed.

Emily was holding her own, increasing her bids by small enough amounts to stay within her budget, but she was quickly reaching her limit. Stella, Chloe, and Eric had some funds left over to help her out, but even that wasn’t looking to be enough.

“Fifteen hundred dollars! Fifteen hundred, going once, going twice – “

“Two thousand dollars,” a familiar female voice called calmly.

On stage, Casey froze.

“Fuck!” Severride cursed, as the other man barely waited for the auctioneer’s stunned shout of ‘Sold!’ before he was off the stage and heading for the payment table.

Severride and Cruz caught up to him before he got there, his pacing slowing as he got a clear view.

“Gabby?”

She slowly straightened from where she had been leaning over the payment table. Her gaze warmed as she saw Casey, her expression soft and welcoming. “Hey Matt,” she smiled, her husky voice low and intimate as she started towards him. Her gaze cooled slightly as she saw the others. “Severride. Cruz. Kidd.”

She had barely taken two steps when Stella darted in front of the men to wrap her in a hug. “What are you even doing here? How long are you in town?” she exclaimed, her voice just a touch too overly happy and bright.

Casey felt Severride and Cruz come up silently to stand at his shoulders, tension and anger radiating from their bodies.

“Flew in this morning, and I fly out early Friday. I stopped by 51, but you were all off.” Gabby replied lightly, her gaze still on Casey. “I’m here tonight to give some money, and also meet with Chief Hatcher and Chief Huffhinds.” She offered a slight shrug and a wry smile. “Seems that I have more of a knack for PR and fundraising than I realized, so they are reducing my field work and putting me more on this. Part of the proceeds for tonight will be allocated towards the relief effort, so really I was helping you guys by helping myself.”

Casey eyed her suspiciously, certain there was something that she was leaving out. She had loved field work, more than she had ever loved being a firefighter, yet she was willingly giving it up to play politics and rub elbows with the rich and elite?

“Speaking of the event tonight, I have no plans to follow through on the date thing, but Matt, I do need to speak with you – privately, if possible?” Her dark gaze flickered over Severride and Cruz.

He knew even before he looked at Severride that his friend wasn’t going anywhere, but he still tried. “Why don’t you three go swing by the table and see what Emily and Chloe and the guys want to drink, and I will meet you over at the bar in a few minutes?”

Severride snorted, shooting him a reproachful glare. “No, I’m good right here, thanks."

Cruz widened his stance and planted his feet, silent backing his Lt. in squaring off with Casey, who returned Severride’s glare but didn’t force the issue.

“Stella. Please?”

She had removed her arms from Dawson, her brow furrowing as she glanced warily between him and Severride. Casey caught and held her gaze, a hint of pleading in his eyes. He could handle the two firefighters, but he needed her to go calm the others and get them to stand down, at least.

“Sure thing, Captain. You all good here?” Her question was for him but her gaze never left Severride and Cruz.

“We’re good. Just a quick conversation between old co-workers, because this is a highly publicized charity event, we are representing 51 and the CFD, and therefore are going to act accordingly.” His voice had an edge of rumbling steel to it that made them – Dawson included – automatically stiffen slightly at the warning and command.

Chief Tieburg and Chief Walker, who had drifted closer and paused to eye the group, both nodded approvingly at him and continued on their way. Stella nodded as well, moving to kiss Kelly on the cheek and lightly squeeze Cruz’s arm before walking away.

Dawson turned to face Cruz and Severride, lifting her chin defiantly as she prepared to go on the defensive. “Look – “

“Save it!” Cruz snapped, his voice low and dark with fury. “You couldn’t be bothered to come home for Otis, but the second your precious job orders you and pays your expenses, here you are.” He curled his lip in disdain, his eyes cold. “Don’t bother coming by 51 tomorrow. I won’t have you disrupting Herrmann’s life and hurting him with whatever paltry bullshit excuse you come up with, especially since everyone has just started to really heal again. You may be able to flit in here and back out again without looking back, but we’re the ones that have to deal with the aftermath.” He met Casey’s gaze pointedly. “Don’t do or say anything stupid that is going to upset your date. You’ve got maybe two more minutes before she comes over.”

“Copy that,” he replied quietly. “I’ll meet you and Severride over by the bar in a couple of minutes.”

Cruz nodded sharply, glancing over at Severride. “I could definitely go for a drink right now. Anything you want to add, Lieutenant?”

Severride snorted, his eyes glinting with sardonic amusement. “Pretty sure you covered it all for me, although I will reiterate the ‘don’t say or do anything stupid’ part,” he said wryly. His gaze travelled to Dawson and lingered for a moment, before he grimaced and shook his head, walking away as Cruz silently followed.

Casey and Dawson watched them go in silence, before she blew out a breath.

“Well. That was…intense.”

“What did you expect? I’m not the only one you left behind, Gabby.”

“I know! I know,” she snapped. “Just…I wasn’t expecting quite that level of hostility.” She planted her hands on her hips, bowing her head for a moment, before straightening to look at him. “Matt, we really do need to talk. Can we meet somewhere tomorrow? I have dinner commitments, but maybe – “

“I’m on shift tomorrow.”

She nodded, biting her lip. He watched her, suspicions crystalizing into certainty before the words were even out of her mouth. “I guess I’ll just tell you then.” She hesitated, reaching out to place a hand on his arm before dropping it back to her side. “I’m pregnant.”


	3. Chapter 3

Severride and Cruz bypassed the bar in favor of their group’s table, knowing the others were waiting anxiously for an update.

“Typical Hurricane Dawson, crashing through our lives and leaving chaos in her wake,” Cruz grumbled, slouching in his chair and glaring over at the couple. “We shouldn’t have left him alone with her, Severride. You saw what happened last time.”

“Hey, Casey will be fine,” Severride replied grimly, though he too never took his eyes off of his friend. “And if he’s not and tries to spin out again, we’ll just knock him on his ass and have Tuesday sit on him until he gets his head on straight.” He glanced at Kidd and Foster, expecting them to smile or laugh, but both women had stiffened.

“She’s pregnant,” Emily announced grimly. “She just told him.” Her eyes narrowed as she studied Dawson with a critically professional eye. “She’s not showing yet, so it was recent.”

“Son of a BITCH!” Severride cursed, shoving his chair back.

Cruz, Ritter, and Stella were there instantly, blocking his path. “Do not make a scene,” Stella snapped. “You heard Casey. We are still representing 51 and Chief Boden, who will _not_ be happy to hear about his Squad Lt. earning a conduct unbecoming at an event full of white shirts and meant to promote a positive image of the CFD.” She glanced over at Foster. “Could you – “

“On it,” she replied grimly, already weaving a path through the crowd towards the couple. Taking in the situation with a single glance, she stepped in between Casey and Dawson, deliberately using her body and superior height to force the other woman back a few steps. Draping her arms around Casey’s neck, she smiled into his eyes – before leaning in to kiss him lingeringly on the lips.

She felt his soft huff of amusement against her mouth as he relaxed under her hands, his own going to her waist to steady her as she pulled back to smirk at him.

“You looked like you could use a rescue,” she murmured, ignoring the sputtering going on behind her. “Usually Squad 3 does extractions, but I figured this particular situation needed a woman’s touch.” She tilted her head impishly, inviting him to share the humor. “Although, sending Severride over here would’ve definitely boosted publicity.” She wiggled her brows as he laughed softly.

“Excuse me!” Dawson snapped furiously, putting a hand on Foster’s shoulder to force her to turn around.

The taller woman reacted instantly, grabbing her hand and twirling them both in a defensive move that ended up with the shorter woman’s arm being pinned against the small of her back.

“You should know better than to put hands on someone like that, especially in a room of first responders,” she snapped, squeezing her wrist in warning before letting go. “You touch me again and I’m calling security and laying your ass out.”

Dawson stumbled a few steps before whirling back around furiously. “We were in the middle of a private conversation – “

“Which is now over,” Emily interrupted coolly. “I think that you have monopolized my date long enough, especially taking into consideration that you two are divorced and you just told him that you are pregnant with another man’s child. There’s really nothing else for you to say, is there?”

Dawson glared at Casey pointedly, waiting for him to come to her defense. He shrugged. “I stopped having a vote or opinion in those decisions – or any decisions in your life – well before you left, so I honestly have no idea why you thought that I might want anything to do with you now.” He looked curiously at Emily. “How did you know – ?“

“I took a signing and lip reading course during my undergrad. It has come in handy more during my time as a paramedic than when I was a resident.”

“Who _are_ you?”

They glanced over at Dawson in surprise, having assumed that she would’ve given up and stomped off in a huff. Emily raised her brows at Casey, murmuring, “she really doesn’t know when to take a hint, does she?” under her breath, before turning her glare on the other woman. She deliberately leaned back into his chest, his hands covering his where they were sitting low on her waist and feeling his exasperated sigh ghost over the back of her neck.

“Gabriella Dawson, this is Emily Foster, Brett’s partner in crime and mayhem on Ambo 61. Emily, Dawson was the paramedic you replaced.”

Dawson’s gaze narrowed as he deliberately left everything else out that they had been to each other and didn’t bother to give her credit for her time as PIC, since she had lost that status when she became a firefighter instead. “On and off the job, apparently,” she scoffed.

Casey’s hands tightened as Emily’s brows shot up. “Yes well, 51 has received all sorts of personal and professional upgrades in the wake of your departure,” she drawled caustically, letting her gaze rake over the shorter, plumper woman.

The physical differences between them were obvious. Emily was tall, slim, toned, younger, and beautiful, her body showcased to perfection in her gold sequined cocktail dress.

By contrast, Dawson definitely hadn’t maintained the firefighter workout regime over the time that she had been gone. She had always been stocky and curvy, but now Casey could already see the changes pregnancy had brought upon her, despite her squeezing in to the little black dress with side cut outs that she had worn the first night that they had gotten together. His mouth curled bitterly. She had planned this whole thing – coming to the auction, bidding on him, telling him about the pregnancy. And for what? He still didn’t fully understand her motives, and quite frankly just didn’t give a damn anymore.

Foster felt him rest his forehead briefly on the back of her neck as a sound that might have been laughter or something else completely vibrated from him. She turned back around to face him and smiled reassuringly into his eyes. “You look like you’re ready to buy me a drink.”

That was one of their prearranged signals from when they went out somewhere and needed a rescue. He huffed, but she saw the relief in his eyes. “It’s an open bar, Em.”

“All the more reason then.” She winked, making him smile reluctantly as she pulled him away. “Nice to meet you, Dawson,” she called over her shoulder. “Have a safe trip back to Puerto Rico. I know that there are increased risks and precautions for someone of your age range in their first pregnancy.” She sauntered away, head high, as Casey followed her in wake.

They barely made it back to their friends before they collapsed into helpless laughter. Severride, Cruz, and Kidd exchanged a confused look as Chloe, Ritter and Eric watched in amusement. “Uh guys? What just happened?” Kidd finally ventured.

Casey sat up, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “What just happened is that Emily Foster is my hero, and I owe her about twenty rounds at Molly’s. And possibly a raise.” Standing, he shrugged on his coat before holding his hand out to his still snickering date. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Still bubbling over with mirth, she let him pull him back up out of her chair. “Works for me.”

They walked away, leaving their friends scrambling to catch up amid muffled curses.

***

The caravan to Molly’s took about twenty minutes, their phones blowing up with texts and calls the entire time.

Foster threw her head back and laughed joyously. “That was fun! You know we’re in so much trouble when we get to Molly’s, right?”

Casey grinned over at her. “Yeah, I know. Guess we’ll have to come clean.”

“It was only a matter of time, Casey. We agreed that it was a temporary thing, friends helping each other out.”

He nodded. “I know. But it doesn’t have to stop just because we’re going to tell our friends. You know I’ve got your back – however, whenever.” His gaze was earnest and warmly affectionate.

She smiled, running her fingers over his jaw. “I know.”

They walked the short distance up to the bar, pausing at the front door and exchanging a look before Casey pulled it open, gesturing for her to go first.

Cruz, Severride and Kidd were waiting impatiently for them at the back table, still dressed in their finery. Ties had been shed, along with jackets, collars loosened, and Stella’s heels were littering the floor underneath as the pair approached.

“Ritter and Eric went home, but they’re expecting an explanation tomorrow. Chloe has to work, so I dropped her off as well. Here.” Cruz thumped two glasses down on the table. “Drink, then you two have some explaining to do.”

Hiding their grins, they obediently took the glasses and clinked before throwing them back, grimacing as the alcohol hit their throats.

“It’s not what you think.” Casey said, settling into the stool across from Severride as Emily sat next to him, leaning against his shoulder with a yawn.

The others studied them doubtfully, noting the easy comfortable body language and closeness between them. He smirked at his best and oldest friend, his eyes sparkling with mischief as his shoulders shook with laughter. “Shay switch n bitch.”

Severride’s eyes widened, and a matching smirk slowly dawned. “No fucking way. How long?”

The ‘Shay switch n bitch’ was something that he, Shay, and Casey had come up with in their early days at 51, before Dawson had even transferred to the house. Shay and Severride had gotten frustrated with the moping Casey during one of his and Hallie’s ‘breaks’ and had dragged him out to a club. Since their tastes in women had rarely overlapped, that had made the trio excellent wingmen/woman for the other two in pointing out potentials and diverting attention to the actual interested party when needed.

“Since the ARNOW fire,” Foster answered for Casey without opening her eyes. “Between the idiot floaters on Ambo hitting on me off of shift, and all the sympathetic hose chasers coming out of the woodwork to comfort ole’ Blue Eyes here, it just seemed like the simplest solution for the both of us.” She raised her head to shoot him a disgruntled glare. “For the record, I still don’t like you like that, but you’re not a horrible kisser. And I’m a total upgrade. And you’re so much better off without her.”

He chuckled as she plopped her head back down, lowering his shoulder slightly so she could get more comfortable. “Such as ringing endorsement as always, Em. I would be insulted if I didn’t feel the same way.”

“Wait wait wait!” Stella waved her hands wildly as Cruz ducked. “That whole thing back there was _fake_? You two aren’t secretly dating?”

“He’s hot, but not my type.” Foster reached up and patted Casey’s cheek as he rolled his eyes.

“Again, ditto.”

“So then how…why…”

Casey shrugged the shoulder that Emily wasn’t leaning on. “After the fire, we all were grieving in different ways. You and Chloe, and you two,” he nodded at Stella and Severride. “Had found comfort in each other, and we weren’t about to begrudge you that. Made for a lot of solo nights here though. During one of those nights, some frat boys wandered over from GameDay and started harassing Emily. So I stepped in.”

“It became a thing,” she continued, sitting up again with a groan. “Never anything too deep, but it was nice having someone watch my back. I just returned the favor tonight.”

Casey grinned at her. “Some of your finest work, I have to say.”

“My pleasure. Seriously. That was so much more fun than fending off the Fenton twins.”

“They had a very compelling argument though. One for each of us.”

They smirked at each other before looking up to see their friends staring at them. “What?”

“This is just an unexpected development, that’s all,” Stella offered, shooting a look at Severride. How had they missed all of this going on right in front of them? “What did you say to Dawson, anyway? She looked ready to spit nails!”

“Oh, you know, just implied that 51 -and Casey- had upgraded all around when I came in.” Emily shrugged, taking a sip of her wine. “Actually, less implication and more just straight up said it.”

They burst into laughter at her unrepentant smirk.

“So she really is pregnant?” Severride said, finally asking the question on everyone’s minds.

Casey nodded grimly. “Peter Mills is the father.” He ignored the shocked gasps from the others. “Apparently Mills was the second person that Chief Hatcher called, since he has experience from Truck, Squad, and as an EMT. He’s been in Puerto Rico for about a year and a half.” He met Severride’s grimly knowing gaze and shook his head, knowing his friend could count as well as he could. The timing of Dawson sending the divorce papers was suddenly at lot more interesting. She may not have technically cheated on him, but she definitely had known about Mills before she had sent the papers. No matter. Not his problem anymore, ever.

“So she wanted to tell you in person?” Stella said hopefully, wanting to give her old friend the benefit of doubt.

“Maybe originally.” Casey allowed with a shrug. “Mills wasn’t instantly happy for her, so they had a huge fight. He went home on leave to North Carolina, and she came here.” He grimaced, shaking his head. “She was looking for – I don’t know. Emotional comfort, maybe, someone to validate and justify her decision to go through with the pregnancy.” Severride snorted, the sound sardonic and bitter. “Apparently even Antonio is pissed at her now, since she hadn’t actually ever told her family the full truth of why we separated. So she was desperate, and lonely, and looking for a friend.” He made an aborted motion. “Maybe I should – “

“Not a chance.” Severride clamped a firm hand on his arm. “Dawson is not your responsibility anymore, Case. Hasn’t been for over two years. She is a grown ass woman who made her choices and her bed and now has to live with them, for better or for worse. Let her get on and do it, so you can get back to living your life.”

Casey slumped a bit despondently, jostling Emily, who had fallen asleep again on his shoulder. Or not.

He jumped with a yelp as she reached over and pinched his side without opening her eyes. “Matthew Casey, do not cheapen all of my exquisite work tonight by crawling back to that little shrew!” She scolded. “Do you not appreciate the sacrifice that I made? That kiss was like mouth kissing my brother.” Her eyes opened to slits. “My hot, occasionally annoying, and always incredibly bossy older brother, but still. Sacrifice.”

“Now that was a speech that Shay would’ve approved of,” Severride teased as Casey rolled his eyes. “Better you than me, this time around.”

He definitely approved of the easy affection and platonic relationship that had developed between his friend and the young paramedic. Casey was his best friend and brother in all but blood, but they worked so well together because they deliberately kept a certain amount of space between them. Over a decade of friendship meant that they could say what others wouldn’t or couldn’t, but it was usually just enough to get them back on track as needed.

Some things were just easier to confide to a woman, who could be empathetic and gently blunt without sounding condescending or raising defensive hackles. Severride had had that outlet with Shay, and now was learning to confide in Stella, but Casey hadn’t ever had that truly platonic female friend, someone who wanted nothing from him romantically or sexually. Foster was good for him; they were good for each other, from what he could see.

“Well, as entertaining as this night has been, I’m calling it guys,” Cruz yawned, speaking up for the first time. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning at work.”

The others agreed, standing up and slowly beginning to gather shoes and other accessories in preparation to leave.

“This was fun tonight, despite the Dawson drama,” Stella said. “We’ll have to actually use the vouchers from the auction and plan a group thing like we originally planned; maybe go kidnap Brett for the weekend too.”

Casey noted with interest that she didn’t include the chaplain. Did she know something about their relationship? He hadn’t heard from Brett since she had left, which he was disappointed by but not surprised. They had left things on a somewhat unresolved note, at least on his part, and he had no idea how to reestablish the slow friendship that they had been easing into before the chaplain had proposed. Text seemed so impersonal, and phone calls too intrusive; they hadn’t really gotten to that point. He was determined to change that if she ever came back to Chicago, though right now that seemed like a pipe dream.

“Yeah – maybe this summer, when it warms up?” Cruz responded to Stella, breaking into Casey’s thoughts. “There’s usually a lot of festivals and fairs going on down by the waterfront. I’ll keep an eye out for something interesting and let you guys know.”

There were general murmurs of agreement as the friends parted for the night. Casey pulled Emily aside to give her a hug, smiling into her hair. “You went above and beyond tonight, Em.”

“Hey. It’s what we do,” she replied lightly, leaning into his strength before lightly pushing him away. “Text me when you get home.”

He grinned; she reminded him every time they parted ways. “Good night, Emily.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brett returns to 51, and Casey steps up his game a bit. Set during 'Crazytown'.

“T-minus four months until the wedding! Cruz, you ready?” Herrmann teased as he and the others changed out in preparation for the upcoming shift.

“Guest list is set, venue is confirmed, the DJ cashed the first part of his payment yesterday, and first tux fittings are tomorrow after shift.” Cruz answered happily, before pointing an admonishing finger at the room’s male occupants. “Don’t be late.” He ignored Herrmann’s indignant scoff and slammed his locker shut before walking away, whistling.

“Guest list…hmm. Do you think Gabby might fly in for the wedding?” Brett wondered absently out loud, fiddling with her watch band. “Dang it! Can one of you – “ She looked up to see Herrmann and Mouch hightailing it out of the room as Foster and Kidd exchanged a panicked look. “What’s going on?”

“I thought you told her!” Stella hissed, glaring.

“You know all of them and the history better than I do! I thought you told her!” Foster retorted.

“Told me what?” Brett demanded impatiently. “Stella. What happened?”

The brunette winced, pulling her down to sit on the bench. “Well, you see, back in February…”

Brett listened in shocked dismay as her friend told her about the bachelor auction, Dawson showing up, and the confrontations that had followed. When she was done she sat there dumbly, still processing.

“So let me make sure I got everything,” she said slowly. “Gabby is pregnant, by Peter Mills no less, and she actually thought that it was a good idea to run back to her ex-husband that she left because she wanted biological children and he didn’t want her to risk her life with a pregnancy?” Leaping up, she began to pace in the extremely limited space. “And then, to rescue him, Emily, you go and pretend to be Casey’s girlfriend and make out with him, in front of Dawson?”

“Not make out,” Emily defended hastily. “Just a kiss on the lips. It was nothing really, more of a peck. Completely platonic, I swear.”

“Aw, Em,” a new familiar voice drawled from the doorway. “Always so complimentary of my kissing skills.” Casey watched as all three women scrambled up to face him, looking guilty. “Roll call in ten minutes, so if you want to grab breakfast or coffee, I would go now.”

Kidd and Foster exchanged a wide eyed look and bolted, taking the hint to escape. Brett moved to follow but he blocked her path, leaning against the lockers and crossing his arms.

“You know,” he mused thoughtfully. “There were a lot of parts to that story, yet you were awfully focused on the fact that Foster kissed me.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, trying not to notice how his white polo shirt only emphasized his chest and arms, or how his collar revealed a small patch of his tanned throat and collarbone that made her mouth water with the sudden need to bite it.

“In fact,” he continued, moving closer to deliberately invade her personal space as his voice dropped to an intimate murmur. “One might even say that you, Sylvie Brett, were jealous.”

She looked up into his waiting gaze, the usually bright blue darkened with intensity and a challenging glint as he waited for her to reply.

The simplest response would be to give in and admit that yes, she was insanely jealous and a bit resentful that Emily had kissed him, that their relationship had evolved into a new found closeness while she had been in Fowlerton. Casey didn’t trust very many people to let them in on an intimate, touchy feely level; she could count maybe three at most.

Severride was at the top of that list, mainly because he usually ignored or busted through any barriers or distance that Casey tried to put up between them whenever they had one of their blowups or had suffered an emotional blow. Gabby had done the same thing, to a point, being naturally more physically affectionate than the more reserved Truck Captain.

Sylvie had started to count herself as the third person on that list as her friendship – relationship?- with Casey had slowly deepened into something more the year before, but whatever they had had seemed to have disappeared, at least on his part. He had been careful to keep a deliberate distance between them at all times, avoiding even the smallest accidental brush of skin. But Foster, who had only been at 51 for just under two years, was now trusted enough for her to _kiss_ him?

She gritted her teeth, clenching her jaw so what she really wanted to say wouldn’t come tumbling out as she glared mutinously up at him. “I have to go,” she mumbled, pushing past him.

Casey let her go – for now – giving her a few seconds head start before heading to the briefing room. She was already there, cradling a mug of coffee and staring into it like it held all the answers to the universe and Stella and Foster whispered urgently to her. He hid his grin as he leaned against the wall in his usual spot next to Severride, who quirked a brow at him. They didn’t have time to speak though, as Boden entered the room and immediately began with morning announcements and assignments, no nonsense as usual.

He deliberately stayed away from Brett and Foster for the entire shift, knowing that both woman were going to certainly be riled up when he saw them next.

_You are so much trouble, Matt Casey! Brett is PISSED! At you and at me, but it’s Brett so she’s pretending like nothing is wrong. If she grits her teeth any harder though, she’s going to break a crown. I’m mad at you too, for the record! A little warning would’ve been nice!_

His shoulders shook as he read Emily’s text later that afternoon.

**If Sylvie wants to yell at me, then she knows where to find me, although she’s going to have to articulate exactly why and what she’s so mad about.**

_…Playing with fire here, Casey._

**Guess I made the right choice on career day then.** He hit send, already hearing her spluttering reply.

It was strange, having outside relationship help, but Emily had been determined, cornering him in his quarters just after shift had ended a couple of weeks before....

_“So. Brett is back in town.” She announced, slipping into his office and closing the door._

_Casey froze for a second before his finished zipping his bag shut and turning to face her. “Back in town because they decided to have the wedding here, or…” he replied neutrally, ignoring the small glimmer of hope deep inside._

_“No, back as in permanently because she called off the engagement on her own and had actually already packed when Stella and I showed up to bring her home.” Foster answered triumphantly, frowning when he didn’t react. “I thought that you’d be more excited.”_

_“Of course I’m excited. Brett is a good friend and a fantastic paramedic, and it’ll be good to get Collins out of here with his smelly ass cologne that he saturates everything in,” Casey replied, moving to lean against the wall and cross his arms. Conversations with Emily Foster, he was finding, were best done on his feet – physically and mentally. The woman was scarily intuitive, and had a way of prying the truth out of him before he knew what he was saying, which he still wasn’t sure he liked._

_At the moment, she was rolling her eyes at him with an air of exasperation only perfected by (adopted) siblings. He sighed, bracing himself for the lecture._

_“You did not just try that casual BS with me!” She scolded. “I am not doing this for another year!”_

_“Doing what?”_

_“Watching you two dance in circles around each other and date other people when you’re obviously perfect for each other!”_

_“Emily, you’re the one who set Brett up with the chaplain the first place!” He countered, not denying her claim._

_“Well, yeah, but that was before I had gotten to know either of you.” She pouted. “And you were busy with that reporter chick, plus it was barely six months since your ex had left. The timing wasn’t right. Now it is.” She eyed him. “Don’t try to tell me that you’re not interested anymore.”_

_He sighed heavily. “So what if I am? She just got out of an engagement, Em. She doesn’t know what she wants right now. I’m not going to push her into something before she’s ready.”_

_“But – “_

_“Leave it alone, Emily.” He warned._

_“She’s meeting that Ryan guy for drinks tonight,” Emily said in a rush. “The social worker. She put him off for the past two weeks, and now all of a sudden she said yes. I don’t think the timing is coincidence.”_

_He frowned impatiently. “What are you talking about?”_

_“Don’t you find it interesting that she agreed to drinks after you hooked up with Smart Girl?” She smirked when his eyes narrowed in interest and surprise. “Looks like you’re not the only one who needed a distraction and a bit of extra denial. How’d that work out for you, by the way?”_

_Lord, it was like having a female version of Severride prying into his business. “I don’t want to talk about it.”_

_Her smirk widened. “That good, huh?”_

_Casey huffed, picking up his bag. “What exactly do you expect me to do about all of this? Brett is free to have drinks with whomever she wants, Emily.”_

_“Okay fine.” She conceded, holding up her hands. “I just thought you might be interested. My bad.”_

_“Go home, Emily.” He sighed, again not confirming or denying anything. “I’ll see you tonight or tomorrow at Molly’s.”_

_She left reluctantly, though without further protest. Her main purpose was done. She had put the idea in his head. Now she just had to wait and see how he responded._

**

That had been a week ago, and Casey had taken his sweet time, much to Foster's frustration. Until that morning. when Brett's casual and genuine happiness over Issac's homecoming had finally triggered a response in the Truck Captain. Foster had been a bit impressed, actually, but far more amused at the both of them. It had been like watching the adult version of kids on the playground, poking a bit just to goad a reaction out of their crush and redirect their attention back onto them. And it had worked like a charm; the slight frown and distracted expression on her usually cheery PIC's face had been more than enough evidence, and her look of stubborn determination when they returned to 51 after the last morning call had been a definite sign that she had worked herself up enough to go confront Casey directly about his comments that morning.

Emily watched her go with a grin, before turning to join the others in the common room. She had thought about texting Casey again, but decided not to. It would be more fun to just let them work it out-however they decided to...


	5. Chapter 5

Casey was avoiding her.

Sylvie Brett frowned in the direction of his quarters, watching as the man who had been occupying her thoughts way too much as of late paced back and forth, talking to someone on his cell phone. His door was closed, as it had been far too often lately.

Foster had shrugged it off when Brett had first mentioned it, saying that it was just part of the new 51 since the loss of Otis earlier that year. Casey had taken the firefighter’s death hard, the first member of his team that he had lost since Andy Darden.

Brett could understand the desire for isolation and separation – she had, in her own way, run away to her hometown to grieve, using Kyle’s proposal as an excuse. But it had been six months since the fire, three since she had ended her engagement and returned home to Chicago. It had also been about two weeks since Stella and Foster had told her about what had happened at the CFD charity event and auction. Two weeks since Casey had implied that she jealous that Foster had kissed him. During that time, she had interacted with Casey a grand total of maybe ten times, on and off of shift.

There had been the warm hug he had given her, along with a smile that had made her heart flutter, just a little bit. She had lingered a bit longer in his arms than necessary, letting his familiar scent of smoke and forest and clean male fill her senses. This was home, and he was an important part of that.

That had been the last time they had touched though. Their other encounters had been all work related – two group conversations that also included Severride, Kidd, Foster, and Halstead – and short brief inquiries about the victim’s state when they had been out on calls. In fact, the last two calls hadn’t required any communication between them at all, since Casey had also developed a habit of calling for Foster for help with victims, letting Brett work on her own. The times before that when she had gotten there first, he had been curt and formal, with none of his usual warmth when speaking to her. He had been MIA most nights at Molly’s as well, or had used Mouch, Ritter, or Severride as a subtle shield, sitting between them and the wall so there was no chance for a casual one on one conversation.

Until that morning, and the weird passive aggressive reaction to her conversation that morning with Foster about Ryan and Isaac. She hadn’t meant to respond so defensively, but something about his studiously dubious and nonchalant tone had just rubbed her the wrong way, especially when he had since gone back to avoiding her like nothing had happened.

Quite frankly, she had had enough.

Casey was currently in his quarters, as was the new norm, with the door closed and hunched over his desk. Brett tensed, taking a few determined strides forward, intent on finally getting a straight answer out of him.

_Ambulance 61, man down, 6524 South Broadside St…_ She groaned as the call came, still facing Casey’s office. She saw him glance up, and their eyes met across the room, before he looked away again. Her gaze narrowed.

“Fine, Casey.” She growled under her breath, swinging around and striding away. “You can hide, but you can’t run…”

A few hours later Casey looked up, startled, as Brett rapped sharply on his door and opened it without waiting for him to reply, stepping in and closing the door behind her.

“Are you avoiding me?” She demanded.

He blinked. “Of course not.”

“Really.” She deadpanned. “Because it’s certainly starting to feel that way. We haven’t had a single conversation together that wasn’t work related since I’ve been back. Even on calls, you tend to stick to the areas where Foster is working. So please, Casey, tell me what I did or said, so that we can go back to some semblance of the friendship that we had before.”

“You didn’t do anything,” he replied dismissively, turning back to his desk. “We’re fine.”

He needed her to leave before he blurted out the truth - he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her or that almost moment of -something- that they had experienced before the chaplain had proposed. That he had almost asked her to stay, instead of moving away. That he had missed her, like sunlight on his skin, a gentle steady warmth that you didn’t notice until a cloud covered the sun, but now that she was back he wasn’t quite sure how to proceed. He knew that he had pushed her too hard a couple of weeks ago, trying to get her to admit that she was jealous, but he hadn’t been able to resist.

She had pushed back though, as Emily had predicted, showing up at Molly’s the following night to have drinks with the social worker, and then this morning, bragging about how he had helped one of the kids that she had befriended obtain an early release from the detention center.

Casey gritted his teeth as she huffed, feeling her narrowed gaze on his back. He had partially resigned himself to the likely fact that he had missed his chance once again and had to settle for just being her friend, a peripheral part of her life. It was an easier pill to swallow when he wasn’t constantly in her presence, especially within hearing distance of her talking about the new guy she was not-dating; and really, it was only a matter of time, based on the besotted gaze the kid had sported the entire night they were at Molly’s.

Distracting himself with other women hadn’t worked either; Severride still gave him occasional shit over his brief encounter with ‘Smart Girl’ (Jessa), who had been cute but way too millennial for his tastes.

“No, we’re not.” She stated. “Something is going on with you, Casey. You’ve been acting different since I got back.”

She moved to lean against the wall to see his face when he didn’t respond.

“Leave it alone, Brett.” He warned, his voice suddenly hard.

She studied him for a long moment. “I’m sorry if I was a bit defensive about Ryan earlier. He’s really just a friend,” she said, changing tactics.

That got his attention. He could let a lot of things go, but not this particular subject. “Sure Brett. Whatever you say.” The scorn was palatable in his voice as he finally looked at her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded, crossing her arms.

He stood up, needing the space, moving to lean against the wall opposite her so he could see her more clearly. “Well, you may consider him a friend, but there’s no way that he’s not interested in more.” He stated, shooting her a disbelieving look when she frowned. “C’mon Sylvie. How long have we known each other?”

“Six years,” she answered slowly.

“And during that time, I have watched you be hit on by victims, strangers, and friends alike. Not that I blame any of them, because you’re gorgeous, but if you honestly think that this guy won’t eventually make a move, then you’re oblivious.” He shrugged. “And you can’t really blame me for making an assumption.”

She blinked, still caught on the matter of fact way that he had called her gorgeous, but then the rest of his statement sank in. “You’re exaggerating,” she said weakly.

He snorted. “I bet you that the social worker will be back to ask you on an actual date before the end of the week.”

“You don’t even know him!”

“Don’t have to. If he’s straight and single, then he’s going to ask you out.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “Fine. What are the terms? Because you’re wrong about this.”

Casey stared at her in utter disbelief, not knowing whether to kiss her or shake her. Was she seriously that unaware of her appeal?

“Your boy Pace will be back to ask you out.” He stated finally.

“Still not my anything,” she retorted, eyes narrowed.

“In fact,” he continued, ignoring her. “I will up the ante and say specifically that he will be back to ask you out before the end of this shift, and he’s going to ask for something completely innocent, like a lunch date, but make a move at some point.”

He hadn’t even met the guy, just caught a glimpse of him at Molly’s, but it was a typical move for a guy to make when he wasn’t one hundred percent confident of the woman’s interest. It was a safe bet to make.

“Casey – “  
  
“If I’m right, then you owe me.”

She stared at him. “You’re really that confident about this.”

He stared right back at her. “Do we have a bet or not?”

She huffed, shaking her head. “This is ridiculous.” He watched silently as she nibbled on her lip, thinking, before she finally nodded. “Fine,” she said firmly, holding out her hand.

He pushed off of the wall to move in front of her, engulfing her hand in his larger one, his callouses slightly coarse against the softness of her palm as he smiled, the glint in his eyes intense. The bells rang and he dropped her hand, gesturing for her to proceed him out the door. “Time to get to work.”

***

The hostage situation lasted most of the day, so it was well into the afternoon when the rigs got back. Casey lingered on the app floor as the others headed inside, teasing Gallo and Ritter about sharing lunch duty and doubling up since they were both candidates for Truck and Engine. He heard Foster call something to Brett before she headed inside without the blonde. He hesitated, making sure they were alone before he walked over to the ambo.

“Hey.”

Brett looked up, her face lighting up with her warm smile as she saw him. “Hey.”

“You were great earlier, with those kids. Using the sister to help keep them both calm,” he said admiringly.

She flushed slightly, inwardly cursing her fair skin. Would she ever get over being complimented by this man? She wondered in exasperation. “You’re the one who got their mom back to them safe,” she countered. “That’s all they really wanted.”

He shrugged it off with a smile, opening his mouth to change the subject, when a new voice called her name.

“Ryan?” She said in disbelief, her smile dimming as she glanced at Casey, who merely quirked his brows knowingly before walking away. She huffed exasperatedly at his back before moving forward to greet the brunette.

An hour and a quick huddle with her girls later, Brett trudged down the hallway once more to Casey’s quarters. He saw her coming this time and his smug grin made her narrow her eyes as she leaned against the foot of his bed. “It’s rude to gloat, Matthew Casey.”

“I was right.”

“Don’t start planning yet,” she grumbled. “Yes, he asked me out. To lunch. To celebrate Isaac’s homecoming and the other kids getting out of a corrupt situation. That’s it.”

“Not a chance.” He scoffed. “It’s a date.”

“Why are you so certain that he’s interested in me?”

“Why are you so in denial that you can’t see what’s right in front of you?” he countered, genuinely curious. If she couldn’t tell when a stranger was interested in her, then she was probably honestly oblivious to the way that he felt about her. Which meant that he was going to have to rethink his strategy a bit…

“Maybe I don’t want to see it,” she admitted with a shrug, surprising herself and him with her honesty. “It’s been kind of nice, not having to dive back into the dating pool with the other piranhas.” Her lips quirked in a rueful smile. “I’m kind of more of a guppy anyway.”

“Brett. Come on,” he admonished gently.

“No, I’m serious,” she laughed, but it was mostly at herself. “I really don’t want to go through all of the awkward firsts of dating again. You know what I mean; you went through it – well, kind of – with Naomi. Ryan seems like a nice guy, but I’m kind of at the point where I want to run a background check on him, just in case.”

Casey grimaced in understanding. Considering that his brief time with the journalist had ended with his apartment being torched, he could definitely understand her wariness about going out with what was, still, essentially a stranger.

At the same time… “You don’t know that you’re ready to get back out there until you actually go,” he said, meeting her gaze. “So, go on this lunch-not-a-date,” he grinned as she rolled her eyes at him. “And if you need a rescue, I’ll have my phone on me the entire time.”

It seriously sucked, urging her to go out with another guy, but doing so meant that she might be more receptive to going out with a friend – namely, him – rather than a stranger next time. He hoped. Besides, he had heard Foster urging her to go and essentially saying the same thing, so hopefully the same advice from two of her friends would convince her.

“It is kind of what you do,” she teased. “Fine. I’ll go, but you’re still buying the first-round tomorrow night, right?”

“Of course.” He nodded, pleased that she was more concerned about seeing him tomorrow night at Molly’s than her lunch date with the social worker.

“Good.” She said, a look in her eyes that he couldn’t quite decipher. “I’ll see you tomorrow night then.”

He watched her leave, aware suddenly that she had made some silent decision about him, but he had no idea what it was.

***

Casey was up to something; Brett was sure of it. She didn’t know what, exactly, only that it involved her. Specifically, her going out with Ryan despite her nagging reluctance. He didn’t usually push; he encouraged, coaxed, cajoled, advised and occasionally outright ordered, but for the most part he was content to let his friends learn from their own decisions and mistakes. Except with her, for this specific scenario.

He was right though – him and Foster both. She needed to go on this lunch date with Ryan and see where it went. She had been back in Chicago for nearly a year, and it was time to put herself back out into the world.

Groaning, she glanced at the clock and started hunting for her keys. No more procrastinating; if she was actually going to go through with this, then she needed to leave within the next few minutes.

Lunch went about how she expected – until he tried to kiss her. Exactly as Casey had predicted. Which she was not going to tell him later that night. At least Ryan had accepted her rejection easily enough and not lingered around.

Brett got into her car, letting out a muffled scream and hitting her head on the steering wheel. “God, maybe I am oblivious,” she mumbled, squeezing her eyes shut.

At least she had confirmed one thing: there was absolutely no sparks between her and Ryan. Spending time with him had felt a lot like being Kyle; there were just too many similarities and warning signs for her to ignore.

She was…comfortable around Ryan. He was steady, calm, collected, which was definitely desired traits in his line of work, she knew. But he was like that outside of work too – muted, controlled. Flat.

One of the things that she had loved about being with Antonio was the spike of adrenaline she had felt in his presence, the banked intensity and charged energy that he had radiated when he looked at her. It had made her feel wanted, cherished, feminine.

She had seen the same intensity in Casey’s eyes, felt that same awareness shiver along her skin both before and she had left, although she only caught flashes of it now when he wasn’t avoiding her (no matter what he claimed).

They had both hesitated during that moment in the bunkroom the year before, caught on a precipice and not willing to leap for different reasons. The moment had been lost, as if it had never happened, and then Kyle had proposed, and she had used the excuse to run away, escape into the easy simple familiarity of Fowlerton.

Now she was back, had been back for months, and still felt those same sparks along her skin whenever she was near Casey. Who was still up to something. And whom to she now owed an unnamed favor to, since he had been 100% right about Ryan.

“Ugh. Why are men so complicated?” she groaned, starting her car and driving home to change and head to the expo to support Cruz. Everything else, including one specific infuriatingly intriguing firefighter, could wait.

Casey walked into Molly’s later that night, immediately spotting Brett’s bright blonde head at a table next to the one occupied by Cruz, Ritter, Gallo, and Mouch. He was pleased to see that she was paying attention to them and that there was no one at the table with her; specifically, no tall lanky brunette social workers named Ryan.

Catching the movement out of the corner of her eye, Brett turned to see Casey smiling at her, his eyes alight with laughter and mischief.

“Don’t start,” she admonished, knowing instantly what he was going to say.

“I wasn’t going to say a word,” he lied solemnly, holding his hands up. “And next round is still on me. What’s your pleasure?”

“Ooh,” she hummed, surprised that he was going to keep his promise despite his winning their bet. “In that case, I will take a glass of the good rosé that Stella keeps behind the bar.”

“Coming right up.” He nodded, disappearing. He was back in a flash, setting the generously full glass in front of her and holding his beer bottle up in a toast.

“What are we celebrating?” She frowned.

“More of a thank you. I used your trick with the big sister on a golfer today. Worked like a charm.”

She beamed at him. “Glad it worked out,” she said, as they clinked and sipped.

“So, how did your not-date go with the not-boyfriend?”

“It’s still rude to gloat, Matthew Casey,” she admonished, but couldn’t help shaking her head in amusement. “Yes, it was a date. You were right.”

He cocked his head, his smile fading as he studied her. “Why do you sound so disappointed? He sounded like a nice guy.”

She sighed, fiddling with her glass. “He is,” she admitted ruefully. “Too nice, actually.” She hesitated, glancing up at him. “I just feel so jaded right now. I didn’t want to drag him down with my emotional baggage. Maybe that’s selfish – “

Casey gently reached out to grab her hand, giving her a comforting squeeze. “Don’t beat yourself up,” he said firmly. “That’s not being selfish, that’s protecting yourself.”

She sighed, yielding to the warm reassurance in his voice. Thanks, Casey.”

“Anytime.”

They smiled warmly at each other for a moment.

“Sylvie. What the hell?” They blinked at each other and turned to see Ryan approaching their table, anger in every line of his body. “You lied to me!” he accused.

Startled, Brett glanced at Casey as she tugged automatically at her hand, trying to subtly draw it away. He tightened his grip, not letting go as he glared at the lanky social worker. “You need to back the hell off and watch your tone, now,” he warned, his voice a low rumble.

Ryan ignored him. “You said you that you just got out of a relationship! What the hell is this?”

“Ryan –“

Casey had heard enough. “What this is, is none of your business,” he snapped. “She already told you that she’s not interested. Her reasons why are irrelevant. Now get the hell out of here before I ask my buddy here to run a check on you and dig a bit more into exactly how many times you have continued harassing a woman after she said no.”

He nodded to Jay Halstead, who had come up silently behind Ryan. The detective returned the silent nod, his hard gaze never leaving the lanky brunette, who had paled slightly. “Casey. Sylvie.” He said casually. “You all good over here?”

“Detective.” Casey returned smoothly. “Yeah, we’re all good. Our friend Ryan Pace the social worker here was just leaving.”

Trapped, all bravado fled. The brunette mumbled something at Brett and escaped.

“That was fun.” Halstead grinned, trying to lighten the tension. His smile faded as he saw Sylvie’s pale face. “You okay?”

She blew out a slow breath, managing a smile. “Yeah, Jay. Thank you.” There was only a slight tremble in her voice as she squeezed Casey’s hand before finally slipping it out of his grip. “I – that was just a bit out of character for the guy I know. Or thought I knew.”

“Really? Hmm,” Jay mused thoughtfully. “I know you were mostly bluffing Casey, but I think I will run his name through the system, see if I get any hits. Better safe than sorry, especially in his line of work.”

He and Casey exchanged a meaningful look.

“Thanks Halstead,” Casey nodded, glancing at Brett. “Pretty sure it was just dumb kid bravado stuff, but appreciate it anyway.”

“Of course.” They clasped hands briefly, before he moved away to join a watchful Atwood and Severride at the bar.

Brett groaned, shaking her head. “See? I am utterly hopeless when it comes to anything even remotely related to the possibility of romance.” She said, frustration clear. “I didn’t mean to give him mixed signals – “

“Sylvie. Stop.” He interrupted firmly. “None of that was your fault.”

“But technically I did lie to him – my engagement has been over for a few months – “

“That is irrelevant. Unless you’re having second thoughts or actual regrets…”

“No.” She replied immediately, meeting his gaze. “I made the right decision. I’m where I want to be.”

Relief flowed through him at her instant and steady reply. He nodded. “Then my point remains the same. The fact that you were not interested should have been more than enough, full stop. That’s on Pace, not you.”

She nodded slowly, still looking miserable. Casey studied her for a long moment, his gaze unreadable.

“Speaking from personal experience, I can tell you that you’re not going to be truly happy until you figure out what you want and reach out and take it.” He said bluntly. “And until you make that decision to go all in and take the leap, you’re not going to be satisfied with any relationship. I wasn’t.”

“That…isn’t my usual M.O.,” she admitted ruefully. “I told you, I’m more of a guppy than a piranha.”

“Passively waiting for the right person to find you isn’t living, Sylvie.” Her gaze flew to his face, startled by the use of her first name. “People like us – we tend to get inside our own heads a bit too much and second guess personal, emotional decisions. But taking that first step to be vulnerable first, and discovering that the person that you’re interested in reciprocates your feelings…there’s nothing quite like it. It gives you a confidence unlike anything else.” Standing up, he met her gaze for a moment, a slight challenge in his gunmetal blue eyes. “Have a good night, Sylvie.”

Her troubled gaze followed him all the way to the door.


	6. Chapter 06

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brett, Foster, and Kidd have a pow wow, and Stella calls in the big guns.

The next morning she was up early, having tossed and turned all through the night. She couldn’t get his words out of her head.

Casey had used her first name twice in that little speech that he had made last night. In the seven years that they had known each other, she could count maybe a dozen times or less that he called her Sylvie instead of Brett. Such a little, insignificant thing, really – they all spent so much time together on and off of shift that it became more about tone of voice than name used in most cases. So she really shouldn’t be reading so much into a casual usage of her first name.

But.

Matt Casey never said or did anything without intent or purpose, and he had been very deliberate in the way he had used her name.

She still couldn’t get in his head, which was frustrating her more and more. Casey the firefighter was easy to read and understand; he was calm, cool, and collected under pressure, and she had grown to listen for and depend on his deep baritone over the radio.

Understanding and interpreting the mind of Matthew Casey the man, however, was proving to be nearly impossible. Like earlier. And yet… There had also been a challenging glint in his dark blue eyes. I’m right here. I dare you. Take what you want.

He was calling her bluff, she realized slowly. Calling her bluff—and calling her out.

Figure out what you want – and take it.

That honestly wasn’t her style though, as she had told him. It wasn’t that she was passive when it came to dating and relationships – her showing up at Antonio’s apartment in an overcoat, bra, and panties was more than proof of that – but she also liked the buildup. The flirty, coy glances, the almost moments and the back and forth between a potential partner and herself. And then once she was in a relationship, she liked the little intimate moments of having a partner; holding hands and snuggling, knowing that there was someone to pair off with for game night (which Kyle had always begged off of, now that she thought about it). The sex had been fun, but nothing really worth pursuing or denying one way or another. Even Antonio, for all his intensity, seemed a bit like he was going through the motions after the first couple of hook ups.

She had a feeling that Casey would be just as through in the bedroom as he was on the job…

Brett blew out a slow breath, finally acknowledging the truth that had been lurking in the back of her mind since before she left for Fowlerton.

She wanted a relationship with Matt Casey.

But how did she entice him into making a move? Because she knew the man. Now that the challenge had been issued, he wouldn’t back down, because he wanted her to make the first move. His reasons why were his own, but after thinking about it, she understand a bit why.

From the stories that Dawson had told her about her and Casey getting together, he had always been a bit more invested in their relationship from the start than she was. That was the core of who the man was, she had admitted; she had never known him to do anything half way – mentally, physically, or emotionally. It was Dawson herself who had been more guarded, unable to fully give up her hard earned independence and the ingrained belief that depending on a partner meant giving up a part of herself. But in protecting herself she had actually harmed them both, putting distance between them every time she chose to go another route besides trusting, investing and believing in her partner and husband.

Knowing all of that, having witnessed some of it first hand, Brett could understand why Casey wanted a sign that she was willing to become as emotionally vulnerable and invested as he would be before he took that same leap. So how could she show him that she wanted him, but still entice him into breaking a bit of that hard control and taking what he wanted, instead?

Needing the movement, she got up to pace in her room, stopping short when she caught a glimpse of her reflection in her mirror.

“Well for one thing, it’s time to bring back my makeup game,” she muttered, aghast. Maybe it was the time spent in lazy Fowlerton, maybe it was just not having the energy or desire to ‘put her face on’, but she had toned down her fashion choices and morning makeup routine since returning to Chicago, often opting to put her hair back in a clip or ponytail, and slicking on a layer of lip gloss more out of necessity and deference to the Windy City than an actual desire to enhance her natural beauty. So there was that. “Maybe a wardrobe boost from the skin up…”

Suddenly inspired and invigorated, she marched to her closet and began pulling out her clothes and dumping them on the bed. Most of the plain, button up plaid shirts and ‘country’ style outfits went into a bag to take to Goodwill. From there she worked steadily through her dresser, all the way to her shoes, discarding anything that had been worn while she was in Indiana.

Finished, she looked around her in pleased satisfaction before picking up her phone.

“Hey, Emily,” she began when her friend answered. “I need your help…”

Two hours later, Brett paced nervously back and forth in her room, nibbling on her lip. “I changed my mind,” she announced, whirling around. “I’m just going to text and ask him if he wants to go out to dinner. Nice and simple and easy! Right?”

Foster and Kidd exchanged a look. “Sure,” Kidd shrugged, deliberately nonchalant. “And you and Casey will go out a few times, and it’ll be another nice and sweet and slow relationship because he’ll be following your lead, and before you know it you’ll be right back to the way you were stuck in the mud with Chaplin Kyle-“

“Hey!” Foster protested half-heartedly. “Kyle is still a great guy. He just wasn’t the one for Sylvie.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Kidd agreed, watching the blonde resume pacing. “And do you want to know why? The real reason it didn’t work out?” She smirked when they both stopped to stare at her. “It’s because our little Sylvie Brett is a smoke eater and an adrenaline junkie just as much as the rest of us, and Kyle, and Ryan, and even Cruz, they were all boring and nice and safe. Face it, Brett. You’re one of us. You’re just more subtle about it than most. Like Casey is.”

“I am not!” Sylvie protested, pausing. “Well, maybe on the job okay, but not in my love life! No way! I like stability and security and having a partner I can count on.” She frowned. “And I’m not saying that Casey isn’t any of those things, but I’m not –“

“Sylvie Brett. Admit it. You like the thrill of the chase just as much as the actual relationship part,” Stella scolded, laughing. “I know this because you and I are a lot more alike than you think. Don’t get me wrong, we are fierce, independent, strong women, but there’s something to be said for that shiver that skitters up your spine in knowing that a sexy, confident man is interested in you!”

“Mmm, yeah. She’s got a major point there,” Foster nodded, falling back on Brett’s bed.

“So this whole plan that you have? I say go for it. Casey and Severride are cut from the same cloth, believe me. This will work, in spades.” The brunette caught her friend by the hand, stopping her movement. “Neither one of you are going to be truly happy with nice or safe. That’s just not in your DNA. Casey said it himself – passively waiting for the right person to come along isn’t living.”

Brett groaned, finally joining her friends on her bed. “I’ll tell you the same thing that I told him – that’s not my style. I’m more of a guppy than a piranha in the dating pool.”

“And no one is saying that you have to change who you are,” Foster soothed. “But this is Matt Casey we’re talking about. That man has more control than anyone I have ever met in my life. He’s not going to make a single move until he has a clear sign that you’re willing to play.” Her dark eyes danced with amusement. “So let’s make the game enticing enough to call the lion to hunt, shall we?”

A few hours later, however, Foster threw her hands up in frustration. “Okay, enough. Stop. Sylvie, Stella, just stop,” she said, grabbing Brett by the hands and pulling her down to sit on the bed. “I changed my mind. Sylvie, you don’t need a grand plan! Casey is interested in _you_ , because you’re genuine and sweet and funny and gorgeous. And because you _don’t_ play games.” She glanced at Kidd, who grimaced. “We’re going about this all wrong. Playing games, trying to manipulate him in any way is probably only going to drive him away, rather than entice him closer.”

Brett looked at Kidd, who nodded vigorously. “I agree. After the emotional rollercoaster that Dawson put him through, simple and easy may be exactly what you both need.” She said firmly. “But you were also right in that making the first move is not your style. So how do we get you two into a one on one situation so you can just let nature take its course?”

The two medics watched curiously as she began pacing, nibbling on a thumbnail as she muttered to herself under her breath. “I’ve got it!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands in glee and making Brett jump. “You, don’t do anything else except be your beautiful self.” She ordered her friend. “I’ve got a perfect in, and Casey will never suspect a thing.” She smirked triumphantly when they looked confused. “I’ll put Kelly on the case.”

“What? No!” Brett exclaimed, mortified. “Stella, Severride cannot know about this!”

“Please. He was seeing potential sparks between you and Casey back when Foster first got here.” Kidd scoffed.

“The night when you cooked spaghetti and brownies?” Foster grinned. “You know, I totally thought you two were secretly dating and I was just too new to be trusted yet with the truth.”

“Wait. Then why push me so hard towards Kyle?” Brett frowned.

“Because Casey was technically still married, and then he was “helping” that reporter chick.” Foster shrugged. “Which was a good thing. Kyle and the reporter may have inadvertently become rebound relationships, but it helped you and Casey heal from the scars left by the Dawson siblings.”

The blonde frowned again, not fully liking that analysis but unable to disagree in hindsight.

“Anyway,” Foster continued blithely. “You and Casey are both in much better headspaces, and the timing is right.”

“Exactly.” Kidd broke in. “Someone just has to nudge – possibly shove – Casey into a situation where he doesn’t have a reason to be quite so stubbornly noble. And that’s where Kelly comes in. Trust me on this. It’s a job for a brother, not a manipulative female friend.” She grinned at Foster, who widened her eyes innocently. “You’ve been a bit obvious lately, chica.”

Foster laughed. “I’ll try to tone it down.”

They looked at Brett expectantly. She wrinkled her nose. “You’re sure Kelly is willing to even help with this?” she said dubiously.

Stella snorted. “Absolutely.” A chance to make his brother happy, plus endless teasing when the two finally got together? Kelly would leap at the opportunity.

The blonde sighed, giving in. “Fine.”

***

It had been over a month since her conversation with Casey and subsequent pow wow with her girls, and Brett had since forgotten all about it, assuming that her friends had been too distracted with all of the craziness that had ensued since then. At the moment, she was too busy venting to her partner.

“– I hate living alone, but what else am I going to do? I’m certainly not staying with Cruz and Chloe!” Brett exclaimed, throwing her hands up and pivoting to continue pacing. She took two steps – and ran straight into a solid male chest.

“Careful!” Casey said, catching her by the arms and smiling down at her. “You okay?”

She blinked up at him, a bit dazed. Foster jumped in. “Sorry Casey – Brett was just talking about her living situation. You know, since Cruz and Chloe are engaged.”

He frowned, rubbing his hands soothingly down Brett’s arms before moving away. “He’s not kicking you out, is he?”

“Oh, no!” She replied hastily. “Of course not. It’s actually the opposite –originally, Cruz was going to move in with Chloe to her one bedroom and let me have the apartment, but I told them that was just silly. So now Chloe is going to move in with Cruz because they can afford it together, and Foster is going to take over Chloe’s lease with her one bedroom apartment since she’s having issues with her apartment manager.” She sighed unhappily as Foster nodded silent agreement. “But that leaves me on my own trying to find another place that I can afford.” She shook her head, offering a wan smile. “I’ll find something though. Just need to start actively looking.”

Casey grimaced in sympathy. “I know how you feel. Sometimes I honestly don’t know if my apartment burning down was the best or the worst thing to happen to me. And at least this way Cruz and Chloe can keep that apartment and the memories of Otis alive. It’s a great solution, even if it leaves you high and dry.”

She sent him a soft smile. “Thanks Casey.”

Foster watched them gaze at each other for a moment, amused, before deliberately clearing her throat. They both jumped and looked at her. “Brett, as I was saying, I can’t go apartment hunting with you this weekend, but maybe after next shift – “

Casey’s gaze flashed over to where he could see Severride and Kidd in the Lieutenant’s office, talking with their heads bent close together. “I could go with you, if you want.”

Both women stared at him in surprise.

“Kidd technically still lives at Herrmann’s, but it’s only a matter of time before she’s back permanently in the apartment, and it’s about time that I moved out anyway,” he said wryly. “And we have similar wants and needs-“ Foster’s brows shot up, and he narrowed his eyes at her. “– in an apartment, so if anything, we could end up being neighbors.” He finished, looking expectantly at Brett.

“You’d really do that?”

“Of course.” He answered, as if it were obvious. “You went the extra mile when I just hinted at the idea of finding a new place, so I trust your judgement in narrowing down some good possibilities.”

“Okay then,” she said, touched by his open show of faith. “Umm, I’ll text the details for sure, but Saturday at 11am? The first open house is a block away from Severride’s apartment building.”

Casey grinned, his entire face lighting up. “Perfect. In fact, make it 10:00 and I’ll buy you breakfast at Mama Lorraine’s.”

“Make it coffee at Chocolatte and you’re on.” She countered.

“It’s a date.” He replied immediately, as the bells went off for Truck. “Thanks, Brett! You’re a lifesaver!”

Alone in the bunk room, Brett narrowed her eyes at Foster as the other woman smirked knowingly at her. “What?” she demanded.

Her partner widened her eyes innocently. “I didn’t say a word.”

“We’re going as friends. That’s it. Just friends. Remember?”

“Yup. Got it,” she replied, holding her hands up. “Just friends, going apartment hunting together.”

“What?”

They looked up at Severride in surprise.

“Oh, hey Lt.” Foster said, ignoring Brett’s glare. “We were talking about how Brett has to go apartment hunting since Cruz is moving in with Chloe, and Casey mentioned that he wanted to get out and give you two lovebirds some space too, so he and Brett are going looking this weekend.”

“Aren’t you just in a sharing mood today?” The blonde grumbled under her breath.

He raised his brows at her, and she began to ramble. “As friends! As friends, looking for two separate apartments, nothing more. You know, two birds, one stone.”

He nodded slowly, gaze flickering between her and Foster. “Okay. Well, good luck. One bedrooms are at a premium right now,” he said slowly, continuing his trek through the bunkroom to the common room and making sure to close the door firmly behind him.

***

“Hey, what’s going on between Brett and Casey?”

Kidd poked her head out of the bathroom, toothbrush in hand. “What?”

Severride lounged back on her bed, deliberately casual. “Brett and Casey. What’s the deal?”

She narrowed her eyes, not buying the innocent act. “Depends. Tell me what you know, or think you know, first.”

“I don’t know anything yet, which is why I’m asking you.”

She huffed, coming over to sit on the bed next to him. “They had a few moments last year, before the chaplain proposed. Now Brett’s back, and whatever happened is gone, at least on his part.”

Severride shook his head slowly, his mind racing. “Not necessarily,” he murmured, distracted. “She still interested?”

“Oh yeah.” Kidd snorted, thinking of Brett’s original plan. She still thought it was absolutely fabulous, and was planning to sit back and enjoy the show as things progressed, but it would be easier (and faster) if Severride was on their side as well. “Why? What are you thinking?”

“That they could be exactly what the other person needs right now, except that they’re both too stubborn and noble to make a move.” He said bluntly.

She searched his face, and a slow smirk appeared. “Funny you should say that…”

**

“Hey Brett!” She turned to see Casey jogging towards her and paused, waiting for him to catch up.

“Hey, are we still on to go apartment hunting tomorrow?”

She nodded, pushing down the sudden butterflies that sprang up at the reminder. “Yeah. Pick you up at your place at 10, and we can grab coffee at Chocolatte? First open house is at noon a couple of blocks away from Severride’s building.”

He grinned, bumping her shoulder companionably. “It’s a date. And Brett, thanks again for this. I’m good where I am,” he rolled his eyes good naturedly, leaning against her car. “At least according to Severride, but Kidd might have a different opinion. Apparently Herrmann is having plumbing issues again.” He gave an exaggerated mock shudder. “Having been in that shower when the hot water goes out, let me tell you, it’s like being involuntarily volunteered for the Polar Plunge – by someone just picking you up and dunking you in the middle of Lake Michigan in the middle of February.”

Brett laughed. “Severride is just looking out for you. You tend to get into trouble when you’re on your own, Casey,” she teased. “I get where he’s coming from though; I have a younger brother too.”

“He’s older by six months!”

“Doesn’t matter. He still has seniority forever,” she sing-songed, lightly pushing him away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Is it really manipulation if the person knows that you're doing it? Asking for a friend..." - Matt Casey
> 
> Severride rearranges things to his satisfaction, and gives Casey a friendly push (verbal SHOVE) to get things moving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing these two! Mostly because Matt Casey is turning out to be a sarcastic little shit LMAO Can't decide if I like writing Casey & Severride banter or Foster & Casey snark/banter more. Leave a comment and let me know if you have a favorite so far! 
> 
> Also, in case you haven't checked it out, most of the Foster & Casey banter is in my one shot, "The Beginning of a New Pseudo Relationship", which is one of the extra scenes from this main story that doesn't quite fit with this timeline.

“So, were you going to tell me that you’re looking for a new place before or after the fact?” Severride said the next morning, walking into the living room where Casey was relaxing, watching the morning news.

He shrugged, still watching the tv. “Timing is better this time around. Don’t want to be a third wheel.”

“Casey. Nothing’s changed.”

“Yet.” The other man corrected wryly, finally looking up at him. “I’ve lived in that studio apartment when there has been plumbing problems, Kelly. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. I couldn’t fix it when I was there, and Herrmann is too cheap to shell out money for an expert, especially when he knows that Kidd won’t really complain and hurt his feelings. Besides, I am actually capable of living on my own, you overbearing mother hen.” He scowled when Severride started laughing. “Why doesn’t anyone believe me when I say that? Brett said yesterday that I apparently might have a slight tendency to get into trouble when I’m by myself.” The scowl faded into a reluctantly sheepish smirk. “Paraphrasing, of course.”

“Brett has a talent for understatement,” Severride scoffed, wiping tears from his eyes.

The past three years had been one thing after another for Casey, beginning with Dawson leaving, his apartment burning, and ending with his being shot at, the loss of Otis, and Brett’s engagement and her brief departure as well. Not to mention all of the other close calls and threats on his life over the years.

Despite all their ups and downs, Casey was probably the most steady and consistent person in Severride’s life, and it had taken him way too long to recognize that for the gift that it was. So yeah, he had been somewhat more protective of the idiot lately, but really, Brett was right – Casey needed someone to protect him from himself on occasion.

“That’s beside the point,” Casey retorted wryly. “The actual point is that I’m just looking today. Even if I find a new place, I’m still waiting for final payment from my insurance company, so it will still be another month or so. That doesn’t mean that you have to delay on asking Kidd to move back in with you, by the way—” His eyes narrowed suddenly as Severride tried to look innocent. “Unless you’re either already planning to or have done so…”

They stared at each other, waiting for the other man to break.

“Planning to ask her after my birthday.” Severride admitted.

“I knew it!” Casey chortled, his eyes sparkling with sudden mischief. Unable to go more than five minutes of serious conversation without taking a jab at his friend, he teased, “Amazing what being in a solid relationship has done for your maturity level. Keep this up and you might actually mature past 14.”

“Hey, better 14 than 94, old man.” Severride retorted. “And I’d say 24, rather than 14.” He smirked suggestively as the other man rolled his eyes. “Besides, we’re talking about you. House hunting with Brett?”

“She’s a friend and I trust her judgement.” Casey said, immediately back on the defensive.

“Uh-huh.”

“Severride.”

He ignored the familiar warning tone. “Look, you know you’re welcome to stay as long as you need. But if you are determined to spread your wings and fly, butterfly, then I might have a lead on a place.”

“Did you just quote Mariah Carey lyrics at me?”

“Do you want to hear this or not?”

“Fine. Go on,” Casey snickered, sitting up. “Where is this apartment?”

“Next door, actually. Katherine Fielding.”

“The snickerdoodle lady?” Casey said in surprise. “But she loves it here, especially living across from you.”

Katherine Fielding was a spry 76-year-old black woman who had lived alone since her husband had died ten years ago, despite her daughter’s insistence that she move to Florida to be closer to her grand and great grandbabies.

Severride had struck up an immediate friendship with her when he had moved in, taking care of or enlisting Casey to help with any household issues or repairs. In return, she made sure that they always had food in their fridge, kept them supplied with the best snickerdoodles in the city, and bragged to anyone who would listen how she lived in ‘the hottest building in Chicago, with two young strapping firefighters across the hall from her’.

Severride rolled his eyes. “She loves living across from _us_ , especially after _you_ answered the door without your shirt.”

“But we got a triple batch of snickerdoodles. Extra cinnamon.”

“Not the point.”

Casey’s shit eating grin widened. Sometimes it was just too easy. “I would love to move into her place, but doesn’t she have a three bedroom? That’s more space than I need by myself.”

“So see if Brett will split it with you.” Severride shrugged.

“Did you not hear me when I said that she’s a friend?”

“Then there shouldn’t be a problem,” he countered smoothly. “Not like you both haven’t lived co-ed before, right? And if you’re just friends, then there’s no other issues.”

Casey opened his mouth, then shut it with a snap. Technically, he was right – at least about Brett. She had lived with Cruz and Otis for nearly two years without any major issues, and their three bedroom was only slightly larger than Severride’s current two bedroom.

Casey, on the other hand, had only lived with the women that he was actively involved with – Hallie, and later Dawson.

“Shay moved in with me before I’d known her for a week. You’ve known Brett for nearly six years.”

“Shay was a loud and proud lesbian, and I was also with Gabby for the entire time that Brett and I have known each other,” he retorted. “Besides, I’ve done that already, remember? We couldn’t keep things separated. It’s also the reason why Kidd moved out in the first place.”

They had moved way too fast, doing things all out of order, as Severride was suggesting that he do with Brett now. So no. Not that he didn’t appreciate the suggestion and the possible plethora of opportunities that spending time one on one with the woman that he was seriously interested in would provide, but he also didn’t want to rush this time.

He paused. On the other hand…

 _Gotcha_. Severride hid his grin. “Brett is not Dawson, Casey, and it’s not like you two are dating. You just said that you’re just friends.” He pointed out logically. “Kidd and I lived together off and on for nearly a year before we actually got together, and she went on plenty of dates.”

“And yet somehow, here we are,” Casey muttered.

“Would that really be so bad? You and Brett?”

The other man shot him an incredulous glare, but there was no heat behind it, which meant that either he was seriously considering Severride’s suggestion, or he had already thought of it and was mostly using this conversation to talk himself out of or into actually doing it.

“Brett is incredibly sweet and is as opposite of Dawson on nearly every level as it is possible to get, which may be exactly what you need right now – as a friend or otherwise.” Severride continued bluntly after a moment. “That’s all I’m saying. Just don’t completely shut down the possibility…or the opportunity.”

Casey was silent for a moment. “Who the hell are you and what did you do with Kelly Severride?” He said wryly. “At this rate, next I’m going to actually be asking for exercise tips from Mouch.”

And just like that, they were back to normal, as if the entire conversation had never happened. His phone buzzed. “And that’s Brett, letting me know that she’s downstairs. I’ll see you later.”

Severride waved him away, already focused on the morning football game. He had said what he wanted to say, so his job was done. No matter which way the other man went, he would support it however he could.

Casey rolled his eyes and left, automatically heading for the stairs instead of the elevator out of habit. Stairs were always an inevitable necessity in his line of work, and the brief time descending from the fifth floor would give him a few minutes to think.

Was he really willing to ask Brett to move in with him – as friends, or otherwise? Now that the moment was there in front of him, he found that he was hesitating, though he really didn’t know why. She had always been in a weird grey area for him; peripherally aware of her beauty and sweetness; not quite an adopted younger sister, but still off limits as his wi— _ex_ -wife’s best friend and partner. Even with the grey area starting to become a bit more defined lately as their relationship shifted to a more genuine friendship and trust, he still found himself questioning whether it would truly be worth it to blur the lines between them and put the friendship that he was coming to depend on at risk.

Physically, that answer was an unequivocal _yes._ She was stunning, with her cornflower blue eyes and curvy little body that made his palms itch to touch and caress. He knew she would be responsive, too; he had watched her soften towards him, had heard the breathy exhale that had left her lips the last time they had been close enough to touch. He had known then, down to his soul, that if he had leaned down and kissed her that everything would’ve changed.

But he hadn’t, and a few days later she was engaged to the chaplain, and he had lost a year of time. Just like with Dawson. She had made the first move and he had pulled away, so she had moved on – to Mills.

There was no Mills equivalent in this situation, but that wasn’t from lack of outside interest. Brett was gorgeous, and shined with an inner light and warmth that drew men to her like a moth to a flame.

In some ways, he mused as he hit the third floor landing, Brett reminded him of Hallie, although Hallie had always been more focused on her career than their relationship – as he had been, to a lesser extent. Still, she had also kept him grounded and steady, and had been his best friend long before they had started dating. Even during their ‘breaks’, they had remained friends, still depending on each other for the moments when the job got to be overwhelming.

Gabby, on the other hand, had been high drive and ambition, mixed with a level of ruthlessness that was almost disconcerting at times. She was also incredibly intense, and headstrong, and independent, and almost arrogantly confident – all qualities that Casey had both loved and hated, mainly because he recognized and acknowledged those same qualities in himself—and in Severride. It was a large part of what made her a fantastic paramedic and a good firefighter, but it hadn’t always helped in their relationship or marriage. Even before they had gotten together, there had always been a certain tension and awkwardness between them, partially fueled by unresolved sexual tension, but also because of the difference in their authority at work. She hadn’t liked yielding to anyone, even him – on or off the job. He hadn’t confided in her as easily as he had Hallie, or even Brett either, Casey was realizing. Not about his thoughts or feelings anyway. Situations, like his mother being up on parole, yeah, but he had never confided his personal uncertainties and doubts that he was doing the right thing to her.

Yet he hadn’t hesitated with Brett, once she had admitted that she had been going out of her way to follow up with the status of the victims they saved on calls. Casey had been so floored and incredibly touched by her insightfulness, as well as stunned that she had actually noticed what he was doing, that it had taken a minute for him to respond to her quiet confession.

It had also alleviated some of the lingering hurt and betrayal that he still felt over Severride and Dawson’s casual assumption that he wouldn’t have been interested in helping Bria because they believed that he ‘didn’t like getting close to victims’. He hadn’t bothered to try to correct their perception; if the two people who were supposed to know him better than anyone had so completely missed the mark, then what was the point?

He shook his head, brushing away the troubling thoughts and returning back to the subject of his current fascination and inadvertent dilemma. Brett had a quiet intensity to her, yet somehow she exuded a warmth and calm confidence that drew people to her, professionally and personally. She was also incredibly competent at her job, which he appreciated and had come to depend on a bit. She was truly a breath of fresh air, he thought fondly, pushing the last door open and stepping out into the lobby. Friends – female friends – like her were rare enough in his life that he honestly wasn’t absolutely positive that he wanted to jeopardize that for a relationship that could burn hot and flame out fast, leaving them both stuck with the aftermath and in a living situation that would be incredibly awkward for the both of them.

“Dammit Severride,” he muttered as he hit the ground floor and entered the lobby. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Casey jogged the last few steps to hold the door open for Mrs. Fielding, who was struggling with an armful of cardboard boxes.

“Here – let me help you with those,” he offered, even as he gently relieved her completely of her burden.

Behind her, Brett couldn’t help the fond smile as she took over holding the door. Leave it to Casey to find a little old lady to help on his day off…

“Oh, thank you Matthew. I got myself into a bit of a pickle – the automatic door button is broken again.” She huffed as they moved slowly across the lobby and down the hallway to the elevator.

“I don’t mind,” he replied with a smile, glancing up over her head at Brett, who jerked her head, motioning at the stairs. “Everything alright, Katherine? These look like moving boxes.”

He had literally just had a conversation with Severride about her moving, but he pretended ignorance, pressing the button for their floor and setting the boxes down for a moment.

“Oh, everything is just fine,” she assured him, patting him on the arm as they moved into the elevator. “But yes, I’m moving. My daughter has finally harassed me into moving in with her, even though I told her that I live in the safest – and hottest – building in the city, what with two strapping young firefighters just across the hall from me.” She twinkled up at him as he helped her out of the elevator onto their floor.

Casey just grinned as he carried the boxes to her door. “Well, we’ll be sad to see you go, Katherine,” he told her, moving aside so she could unlock her door. “You have fun spoiling those grandbabies of yours though. Especially Janiah. She’s already a little heartbreaker.”

“She’s a menace,” she grinned proudly. “Started fourth grade, and is on the school soccer team. Says she wants to be a medic, like your Gabriella. How is she doing?”

His smile faltered slightly, but Brett was the only one to see it as she stepped out of the stairwell. “Not mine anymore, but still a superhero. Saving lives and heading the relief effort in Puerto Rico.”

“I’m not surprised.” Mrs. Fielding studied him with assessing dark eyes as he fought to not squirm. “Sometimes we encounter people who were meant for a greater purpose. They change our lives while they are in it, then move on to a different path and purpose. Gabriella was always going to travel out of your orbit, Matthew. You were her love, but not her purpose.”

He sucked in a sharp breath at her insightfulness, delivered with the gentle loving bluntness and tact that only a mother of eight could portray, and nodded slowly.

“Let me or Severride know when your moving day is, and we’ll help haul your boxes out if we’re not on shift. No need to waste money on a moving company when you have a couple of firefighters willing to pitch in.” He managed a genuine smile. “And we’ll work for snickerdoodles.”

“Having tasted those coveted cookies, I can attest to that.” Brett interjected, smiling as she moved forward.

“Katherine Fielding, this is Sylvie Brett, our lead paramedic at 51 and also a good friend of mine. ” Casey responded smoothly. “Brett, Mrs. Fielding’s cookies are always the ones that are first gone at the holiday potluck every year at the house.”

“That’s because we only bring a quarter of the batch,” Severride said, poking Brett in the side in greeting and silent thanks for the text heads up. She scowled, swatting him away. “And no sharing the secrets of the cookie dealer, man. That’s a violation of the officer’s handbook. Coffee and cookies are sacred, and shall not be shared, even with pretty paramedics.”

Brett snorted and turned to face off with him. “Technically, I am an officer of nearly equal rank to _you_ , Lieutenant. But your secret’s safe with me – as long as you share.”

“Five cookies.”

“A dozen.”

“Half a dozen.”

“Nine cookies, and I’ll show you where my stash is of that Columbian dark roast breakfast blend that you guzzle down all the time without knowing. I know you’ve been on a secret hunt to find out who the source is for weeks now.”

Severride eyed her. “Deal.”

They shook hands as Casey and Mrs. Fielding watched in amusement.

“I guess I should pack my baking sheets last then.”

Severride immediately winced. “Sorry Mrs. Fielding, I didn’t – “

“Relax Kelly, you know I’m only teasing.” She soothed, patting him on the arm. “You boys have always gone out of your way to look after me. The least I can do is indulge in your sweet tooth one more time,” she said fondly.

While they were talking, Brett had moved curiously closer to the doorway. “Mrs. Fielding, if you don’t mind my asking, when is your lease up?”

“Not until next March,” she said mournfully. “I would just stay until then, but my daughter wants me down to Florida with her for the holidays.”

Brett shot Casey a pointed look. It was only June, so he would have plenty of time to save if he needed to. He shook his head at her ruefully. “This is a three bedroom unit,” he told her. “That’s more space than I need, rattling around by myself.” He met Severride’s knowing smirk with a warning glare, shaking his head slightly. As tempting as it was, he had decided that he was not going to push whatever was building between him and Brett by asking her to move in with him before they had even gone out on an actual date.

“Matthew Casey, you are moving in here and that’s the end of it,” Mrs. Fielding admonished. “It will comfort this old woman’s heart, knowing that you’re in a good place and still near family.” She winked at Severride, who grinned. “I always pay my rent out months ahead – that was something my Gerald taught me before he died – so we wouldn’t have to worry about it. We can transfer the unit into your name, and no, I will not hear a single word about any kind of repayment, so don’t even try it. But you are moving in here, and that’s final.” She pointed a stern finger at him when he tried to protest anyway. “Nonsense! Don’t argue with me young man.” She touched his arm gently, smiling up at him, and then over to Severride. “You and Kelly are the closest thing that I have to sons since my Damian and Jordan were killed in the line of duty.”

Casey sobered as she caught and held his worried blue gaze. “You two are so much like my boys were, brothers, always looking out for each other on calls and at home.” She said fiercely. “Same as my boys always did, followed each other straight into the military so that they could watch each other’s backs. It will do this old woman’s heart a world of good and allow me to sleep at night, knowing that you have a place to come home to that you don’t have to worry about.” Severride shifted, and she glanced at him, sudden mischief in her gaze. “Not that you didn’t already, but I know you two troublemakers need your own space too.” That waggling finger now waved between the two as she smirked, winking at a giggling Brett. “And this way, when one of you does something dumb and male to piss off your long suffering ladies, then you have a place to go to sulk and commiserate, and they have a place to go drink wine and complain about you two charmers until you finally admit that you were wrong and come home to apologize.”

Severride threw his head back and laughed. “Casey, she makes some excellent points.”

Casey huffed in resigned exasperation. “A three bedroom is still too much space for me by myself though,” he pointed out.

“So split it with Brett.” Severride suggested again. He shrugged as she turned to stare at him in surprise. “What? It’s the perfect solution. You were just talking about having to find a new place anyway before Cruz and Chloe get married in a couple of months, and this way you get a roommate to help share costs and you’re in a much better neighborhood than what you were in when you first moved here.” He raised his brows pointedly as she glared at him in betrayal. “Don’t glare, you know I’m right.”

After the wannabe thug had broken into her home and Harrison had left for the final time, she had called Severride for help and had sworn him to secrecy. He had agreed only after making her promise to find a roommate and a better solution as soon as she had saved up the money.

Mrs. Fielding chuckled softly. “Why don’t you go discuss things, and come find me when you make a decision,” she said, ushering them out the door. “I’ll have cookies when you come back.”

Casey raised his eyebrows at Brett, silently leaving the decision up to her. She frowned at him and huffed, not quite stomping back down the hallway.

Severride grinned, watching them leave. “Thanks, Katherine.”

“Mm-hmm.” She eyed him shrewdly as he leaned down to peck her on the cheek. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to, you troublemaker,” she said fondly, nodding towards the couple as they disappeared. “Just like my Damian did with his younger brother Jordan. Protecting his heart, not just his back. You’re a good man, Kelly Severride.”

He flushed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Trying to be.”

“And still as unable to take a compliment as ever,” she teased gently, waving him away. “Go on. I’ll be here when you are ready.”

Severride grinned as he pulled out his phone to call his girlfriend. “It’s done. They’re out furniture shopping as we speak,” he greeted her, his smug tone filling her ear. It wasn’t quite the truth yet, but he knew his friend well enough to be confident that it was essentially a done deal.

“Kelly Severride, the matchmaker,” Stella teased. “I’m impressed.”

“No, no,” he corrected immediately. “This is merely…putting them on an equal playing field. What happens after this is completely up to them.”

“Mm-hm.”

“I mean it Stella,” he warned, infusing a slightly harder edge to his voice. He was confident in his belief that Casey wouldn’t hesitate to act, once the situation and opportunity presented itself, but he and Brett deserved a chance to explore whatever was between them without the nosy eyes and ears of their well-intentioned friends trying to help.

“Yeah, okay.” She sighed. “I’ll tell Foster to back off a bit.”

“Thank you.”

“Mm-hmm. Love you.”

“Love you too.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Casey and Brett have a conversation.

“We can still go apartment hunting as planned, if you want,” Casey offered as they clattered down the stairs. “Severride can be a bit of a bulldozer when it comes to his friends.”

“We’ll talk about it when I have coffee in my hands and another in my system,” Brett replied firmly, pushing the front door open and stepping out into the blustery sunny day. She yelped as she was nearly knocked off of her feet by a strong gust that caught her just right.

“Whoa! C’mon, featherweight, use me as an anchor so you don’t fly away.” Casey quickly moved to her right, taking on the brunt of the wind as she wrapped her arm around his and snuggled into his side, tucking her face into his shoulder.

“Lead on, Casey. I’m right behind you – literally.”

He laughed, shortening his stride slightly so she could keep up. Their destination, Chocolatte, was only a block away so it was a mercifully short trek.

“Hey Matt, Sylvie!” The barista called as Casey held the door open so Brett could duck under his arm. “What’s up? I usually don’t see you on your off days.”

“Now Ty, you know I can’t go more than a day without seeing your handsome mug.” Casey said solemnly before grinning. “We’re doing some apartment hunting. Trying to find something before the college kids discover that this is actually the neighborhood to be in.”

Ty was actually Tyler Livingston, former All Pro linebacker for the Chicago Bears. He had retired early and by choice, funding his wife Daria’s dream of opening a café that was the male equivalent of the bikini barista stands that had become such a fad lately. They had compromised on the uniforms though; NFL jerseys and fitted Levi’s now adorned the various six foot plus men who moved easily around the large café and bakery, talking and joking easily with customers.

Ty had been so highly entertained by the idea that he had taken it further; nearly all of the baristas were formerly affiliated with the NFL in some way, with the occasional current and former player stopping in to help out, and half of the proceeds went directly to local school districts and community centers to help fund the after school programs that fueled both mind and bodies.

“I heard that. That’s why we keep it so low key on advertising and depend on word of mouth. It’s like our own little oasis round here right now.” Tyler replied. “Me and the guys are trying to keep it that way by buying up the local businesses and apartments so we can support where we can, but it’s an uphill battle.”

“You are definitely a much better landlord than the last guy that owned our building,” Casey said fervently, moving aside to let Brett order first.

Ty smiled toothily at Brett as she moved closer. “You want your usual? Black coffee for you Matt, and a skinny white chocolatte for the lovely lady.” He winked at her. “Hey Sylvie. When are you going to come fully over to the dark side?”

“Hi Ty.” She grinned back. “I keep telling you, you keep flirting with me and you’re gonna get in trouble. And I like my drink, thank you. Your wife suggested it to me.” She nodded to Daria, who had come up silently behind him.

Tyler opened his mouth to reply, only to jump about a foot in the air as his wife pinched him smartly on the butt. “And now it is on the house, for putting up with this idiot,” she said, glaring up at her husband, who topped her by over a foot. “What have I told you about flirting with the customers? Especially the ones who are already taken!”

Casey and Brett glanced at each other, their eyes wide. “Daria, we’re not—” Brett began hastily, but the fierce petite woman was on a roll, continuing her scolding in liquid, rapid fire Italian. She did spare a second to shoot a wink at them as she took a breath, which made them both grin.

Tyler waited patiently until she paused to take another breath before leaning down and scooping her up over one broad shoulder.

“Excuse me, folks,” he said as she sputtered and laughed from her upside down position. “It’s my lunch break. Shane will be out in a moment to fix your drinks.”

“Tyler Livingston, it’s only ten o’clock in the morning!”

“Okay, then it’s a breakfast break.” He and Casey exchanged a male smirk as he walked away, Daria still scolding despite her laughter.

“Never a dull moment in here,” he laughed, turning to follow a giggling Brett over to the corner window table.

“The best part is that it’s happened so often that the regulars don’t even bat an eye anymore,” she replied. “I hope I find someone who loves me even half as much as he does Daria, even after over a decade of marriage and three kids.”

Casey took a sip of his coffee, considering her for a moment before replying. “It is possible,” he mused. “Usually when you least expect it.”

Brett frowned at him. “That’s an abrupt about face, coming from the guy who pushed me to go to lunch with Ryan,” she challenged.

“That was for you, not for him,” he shrugged, leaning back in his chair to fix her with a steady blue gaze. “The first date after a long relationship is always the hardest. Naomi came back three different times before I finally agreed to go out to dinner with her.” He gestured at her with his cup. “I figured I was in a better position to give you that final friendly nudge—”

“Verbal shove.”

He grinned. “—than Kidd and Foster were.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but conceded the point. They had convinced her, but it was really his goading that was the final straw.

Casey gave her a moment before changing the subject. “So as I was saying, we can still go house hunting. I don’t want you to feel obligated or pressured –“

“Casey,” she interrupted firmly. “I’m in.”

“What?”

“I’ll move in with you.” She said. “It’s a gorgeous apartment, and I’m not letting you pass up such a fantastic opportunity. If the only way that you’ll accept Mrs. Fielding’s offer is to have a roommate to share costs and space, then I’m in. I’m going to wait until after the wedding to actually move in, since I’m still on the lease with Cruz, but that’s only a couple of months away.” Her face suddenly lit up with mischief. “Besides, now I get to brag that I live in the hottest building in the city, with a firefighter for a roommate _and_ right next door. Gotta carry on tradition, after all.” She teased, cocking her head. “You think Mrs. Fielding will share her snickerdoodle recipe before she leaves?”

Casey smirked. “I appreciate the compliment, although I promise I won’t tell Cruz.” He returned as she blushed. “Or Severride for that matter. You’d never hear the end of it. He’s bad enough when Katherine flirts with him.” He pointed his coffee at her in admonishment when she snickered. “If you get that recipe though, you have my undying gratitude and devotion.”

She raised her brows, meeting his gaze. “Challenge accepted.”

If only it were that easy, but she was up for the true challenge. She liked Casey, enjoyed spending time with him at work and the odd moment at Molly’s. But they had never had an opportunity to do so one on one for an extended period of time. Living with him would give her an inside rare look at Matt Casey the man, in a casual, comfortable, and intimate setting.

Maybe whatever it was that was slowly building between them might actually ignite, once they didn’t have the subtle (and not so subtle) pressures of their friends around them. She didn’t know, and honestly had no expectations at the moment, which was a heady and freeing feeling.

Casey had been right to push her into going out with Ryan, but it had actually had a bit of an adverse effect. She had come to the decision that she really just didn’t want to wade into the dating pool. Instead, she wanted to invest that time, energy and emotion into her current friendships and relationships that she had already. Not just at 51, but with her friends at Chicago Med and PD that she had cultivated over her career. And her first priority was continuing to grow her friendship with the man sitting across from her.

Casey watched the emotions flash across Brett’s expressive face, wondering what she was thinking about so intently. Whatever it was, he didn’t ask and she didn’t offer, as they finished their coffee in comfortable silence.

He finally cleared his throat, smiling as she jumped slightly in surprise. “Sorry. Didn’t meant to startle you, but we should probably get going,” he hinted, taking their cups to the trash.

She nodded, standing and stretching up on her toes. Casey watched her for a moment, his gaze warm with male appreciation, before he moved to help her put on her jacket.

“Always the gentleman,” she said lightly, threading her hand through his arm and snuggling up to his side as they made their way out the door. “Are the dimensions the same as in Severride’s apartment, or do we need to go back and get a visual and some measurements before we go spend money?”

He paused, thinking. “Pretty sure the bedroom dimensions are the same, but I know Katherine and her husband did some modifications to the kitchen and living room. We should probably go back anyway and let her know that we accept her offer.”

Brett nodded, tugging him along. “See? There you go, getting into trouble without someone to look after you.”

He glanced down at her with a warmly affectionate smile. “Well, now I’ve got you to do that.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Casey gives in to the inevitable (in more ways than one), Brett decides that her friends are ridiculous, Severride flexes, and Cruz gets an interesting job offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated because this is one of my favorite chapters that I wrote :)

Saturday dawned bright, with temps promising to soar later in the day. Katherine had arranged for the movers to come early, knowing that her daughter and son in law were anxious to be back on the road as soon as possible. They had already left, despite Katherine’s protests, trusting in the firefighters to help load up the truck and get the movers on the road as well in a timely matter.

Casey and Severride had done exactly that, clearing out the apartment in no time. They had also called in their own reinforcements in the form of Cruz and a willing Ritter, with the promise of no bathroom duty for the next two shifts.

Despite her best intentions, it was nearly ten when Brett stepped out onto her new floor, immediately breaking out into helpless giggles at the sight that greeted her.

The building was a former factory that had been converted into large loft apartments, two to a floor, with six floors total. Once you stepped out of the elevator, you could either turn to the left and go to Severride’s apartment, or turn right to Casey’s door. The rest of the area was a wide open space with minimal decoration and access to the stairs on the far wall.

Stella, Emily, and Chloe waved at her cheerfully with matching naughty grins.

“Brett!” Kidd called. “C’mon, pull up a chair. You’re just in time to catch the last of the show.”

Shaking her head, she accepted the lawn chair next to her friend, still snickering. “You are absolutely ridiculous, you know that right?”

“Hey, we needed to send Katherine off in style, and who am I to deny my favorite ladies prime opportunity like this?” The brunette said innocently. “Hey Ritter! Foster’s looking a bit mopey again. I think she needs some distraction.”

Ritter obliged, strutting towards them like he was on a catwalk in Milan, complete with dramatic pauses and extra flair, using the box in his hands as a prop as the women whooped and cheered. Despite her laughing protests, Foster eventually got into it, getting up to join him for an exaggerated bump and grind as Stella tucked Monopoly money into their waistbands.

“Hey! Take it outside, kids.” Cruz mock ordered as he joined them.

“That is the last box anyway.” Ritter replied, twirling Foster in a playful circle and ending with a dramatic dip that had their audience cheering and clapping.

“C’mon Usher,” she replied breathlessly as he raised her back up. “I’ll buy you ice cream for that show.”

“You’re on. That was totally worth at least three scoops.” He said, picking up the box.

“Two, maybe. You need to actually _be_ Usher in order to get any more than that,” she retorted as they stepped into the elevator. The door closed on his protests.

“I could have gone the rest of my life without seeing that,” Brett said into the silence.

“Be glad you only caught the last of it.” Casey replied wryly as he and Severride joined them. “It was worse with Katherine egging them on.” He rolled his eyes at her as she giggled. “Where do you think Kidd got the Monopoly money in the first place?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Chloe mused, letting her fiancé pull her up out of her chair and smirking up at him. “If this whole firefighter thing doesn’t work out, it’s nice to know that you have other talents to support us.” Her green eyes sparkled mischievously. “What’s your rate for bachelorette parties? I have one coming up soon…” She squealed with laughter as he hoisted her up over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Joe Cruz, put me down!”

“Casey, Severride, if we’re all done here, I have another job that just opened up,” Cruz said, ignoring the squirming bundle and hysterical laughter behind him. “Might take the rest of the day, so I’d like to get started as soon as possible.”

Her friends were absolutely ridiculous, Brett decided again, watching the two officers smirk and wave him away. Meanwhile, Chloe had wriggled until she was in a position to plant her elbow in his shoulder enough to prop herself up.

“Bye Chloe!” Stella called cheerfully, blowing exaggerated kisses.

“So if Joe doesn’t show up for shift tomorrow, can someone also call in sick for me at my work?” The redhead called. “Oh, and order us a pizza for delivery? No anchovies or onions!”

The elevator closed – thankfully – before they could witness Cruz’s reply.

“So, has anyone started a betting pool for their first kid yet?” Casey mused. “I’m putting $50 on nine months from today.”

The four remaining friends snickered at each other as Stella stood up.

“I guess that’s our cue too,” she said, stretching up on her toes and smirking to herself as Severride’s eyes followed the movement as her shirt rode up. Sauntering over to the two men, she slid her arm around his waist before turning to Casey. “Thanks for roping him into doing this, Casey. He’s needed something to help him out since he became a white shirt desk jockey over at OFI. Less than a week on the job and he’s really let himself go.”

Casey’s shoulders were shaking silently at her sheer audacity as his friend slowly lifted his shirt and glanced down, prompting an obliging wolf whistle from Brett.

“Hey, I can always come up with some inventive ways to burn some calories,” he said with a leer as she smirked back at him. “I’m not the one who needs to work on their endurance.”

Casey snorted and shoved them both away. “Get a room, you two. In fact, get an entire apartment, as in the one not ten feet away.” He signaled to Brett and she darted around the still bickering couple, following him safely into their new place.

She sighed, leaning against the door, still bubbling with laughter. “Our friends are ridiculous.”

“Yeah they are.” He agreed with a fond grin. “We’re going to have to do something big as an actual thank you once we’re settled in. They really showed up for us today.”

She nodded, grimacing at the amount of boxes that were lined up in the living room. “Absolutely. So, how do you want to do this? Bedrooms and bathrooms first, and then come back out here to tackle the living room and kitchen?”

Casey shrugged. “Works for me. See you in a couple of hours!”

It was late when they finished, looking around at their new home in satisfaction.

“We could still use some more small decorations – maybe a couple more rugs, some plants near the windows – but overall, I think we did a fantastic job.” She said proudly, holding her fist up. “Nice job, roomie.”

He bumped her fist, still looking around in awe. “I can’t take any credit for this. You are absolutely amazing.”

She beamed at him, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Thanks. I’d like to say that I made Joanna Gaines proud today,” she grinned, flopping down on the couch with a sigh.

Casey grinned, having quickly learned who the design mogul and her carpenter husband were from Brett’s animated and enthusiastic descriptions and stories. “I am happy to play the Chip to your JoJo any day,” he teased, striding over to the fridge. “And thank you for confining the shiplap to your bedroom.”

“It is a gorgeous feature wall though,” she replied, accepting the bottle of her preferred hard lemonade and following him over to the living room area as he claimed one of the squishy armchairs.

Watching him flex and sweat while installing it had been an even better sight than the finished product. A Matt Casey completely in his element, comfortable and relaxed, was one she was becoming a bit addicted to spending time with, and it was only day one of their being semi roommates.

He sent her a quick smile as he stretched his arms lazily over his head, arching his back and pointing his toes. Her mouth watered slightly as his t-shirt rode up, revealing tanned skin and a hint of rock hard stomach. Coming out of the stretch, he rolled his head from side to side, groaning in relief as his neck popped and muscles loosened.

“So I was originally thinking of dragging you out to Molly’s to celebrate, but right now all I want is deep dish and a night in.”

Brett blinked, her gaze refocusing. “Sounds good to me.”

Casey stifled an inward grin. “Split a large? Half red, half white sauce, spinach on your half and bacon, sausage and mushrooms all over?” He let the grin show at her surprised expression. “I told you – I pay attention to the details.”

“Learning new things about you every day, Matt Casey,” she murmured.

He winked at her as he pulled out his cell phone. “I’m an onion.”

Pizza ordered, Brett watched lazily while he puttered around, finishing the last little touches and clearing out the last of the debris that came with moving. By the time the pizza came, she was fast asleep.

Casey quietly paid the delivery guy, making sure to pocket the receipt so Brett wouldn’t see the total. She was still insistent about splitting everything 50/50, so he cheerfully defied her where and when he could. Partly because he had money to spare, but mostly because he enjoyed how riled up she got. Dawson had never had a problem going toe to toe with him, but he and Brett had mostly shared similar opinions over the years, so his silent rebellion made him feel a bit like a kid in school, teasing and tugging the pigtails of the girl he liked for attention, but he would take what he could get.

Padding silently over to the couch, he gazed down at the picture she made, fast asleep. Her hair was tousled and loose, her cheeks lightly flushed. Unable to resist, he drew a finger gently down her cheek, watching those impossibly long lashes slowly lift, revealing hazy, soft, cornflower blue pupils.

“Hey Sleeping Beauty,” he murmured. “Pizza’s about here. You still hungry, or are you gonna move to your bed so you don’t screw up your back?”

She mumbled something, burrowing her face into her pillow.

“Bed it is.” He said wryly, scooping her up easily. She wrapped her arms around his neck, turning her face into his shoulder and making him grit his teeth against her soft breath against his skin.

He set her gently down on her bed, debating internally for a moment before slipping his hand under the back of her shirt to unhook her bra, loosening but not removing. Pulling the covers up over her, he indulged in one last look, before escaping to the safety of the living room.

Popping open another beer, he ignored the pizza for a moment in favor of his phone.

_This is the last time I listen to you about relationship advice._

Across the hall, Severride snickered as he read Casey’s text.

**What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.**

An immediate reply of an emoji of a middle finger made him laugh out loud, causing Stella to look up from the various books, pamphlets, and manuals scattered across the countertop.

He shook his head, watching with an inward sigh as she immediately returned her attention to the page in front of her. He knew better than to try to offer any more reassurances or advice; he loved his girlfriend dearly but Stella was as stubborn as she was beautiful, and she was as driven and competitive as he was. She was also defensively protective of her status and talent as a firefighter, despite Casey consistently depending on her and giving her increased responsibilities, both out on calls and during training. He had shown his dependence and confidence in her by assigning Gallo to shadow her just as much, if not more so than himself or Mouch, as well as putting her in charge of a lot of the candidate’s training for the nuances of being on Truck rather than Engine.

Pointing any of that out would only get her riled up though, so Severride merely pressed a kiss to the top of her head and retreated to the couch to watch the Blackhawks game and silently keep an eye on the clock, protecting his girl from herself how he could.

As for Casey, well, Severride had done his part, and was more than satisfied with how things had worked out. His friend was still close enough to keep an eye on as needed (no matter what he claimed), and Brett was in a situation where she would definitely be safe and looked after as well (and Severride could go over and poke at her as needed too). Supremely satisfied, he took a sip of his beer and relaxed into the couch to enjoy the game and the culmination of plans falling into place.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after and a brief conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is so short guys. I've got about twenty pages of hand written stuff to type up, so it may not be the only chapter today!

Brett woke with a jerk, sitting up and looking around wildly. It took a minute, but the memories came flooding back: she had moved in with Casey. Technically. He had ordered pizza, but she had crashed on the couch. He had carried her to bed and…unhooked her bra? Heat flooded her cheeks, but she shoved down her embarrassment, reluctantly leaving the warmth of her bed.

Casey glanced up as she wandered in, still tousled and half asleep. She had kept the bra, he noted, and changed into a pair of sweatpants that hung low on her hip bones and covered her feet. He opened his mouth for a greeting, only to watch in amusement as she ignored him to head straight for the coffee pot. Only after she had taken her first sip did her eyes open enough to actually register his leaning against the counter nearby.

“Um. Good morning?”

“Morning. Nice to know where I stand in your order of priorities,” he said, laughter coloring his voice.

She pressed her lips together, looking sheepish. “Yeah. Sorry about that. Apparently I can sleep through anything if I’m not on shift, and I don’t speak until my first cup of coffee.”

“Copy that,” he said lightly. “Anything else that I should know before you actually move in? We’ve known each other for a long time, but I think this is the first time that we’ve spent time together one on one.”

She frowned, wandering over to her favorite armchair and curling up, tucking her feet under her as she pondered his question.

“I think you’re right,” she mused. “Really, except for one incredibly awkward double date with the Dawson siblings -and don’t think I didn’t notice, Matt Casey! – Gabby was always there, or we were on calls.”

His smile faded slightly at the mention of their exes, but he nodded gamely. “Incredibly awkward doesn’t begin to describe it,” he teased, walking over to join her. “But that was par for the course with that family.” He took a sip of his coffee, eyeing her over the rim. “Quit avoiding the question, Brett.”

She huffed, remembering a similar response with Severride from the year before. “I’m not avoiding the question!” She protested. “Okay, things to know about me: I’m lactose intolerant, which is why I stick to skim milk. I have one brother, younger, named Logan, who is a cop in Fowlerton – and do _not_ give me grief about having a cop in the family.” She smirked as he shut his mouth with a snap. “His wife Ashlee is really the brains of the family, along with my nephew, Ryan, who is 10 going on 30.” She sipped her coffee, raising her brows. “Your turn.”

He shook his head at her. “Fine. I am not lactose intolerant, and I have one sister – Christine, who is older than me by about four years. She has a daughter, Violet, who is the smartest 14 year old in Chicago.” That made her grin. “Christine actually filled Donna’s spot at the elementary when Donna moved to teaching high school.”

“Brave women, both of them.” Brett said feelingly. “I don’t know what’s more intimidating – a classroom full of kids, a room full of teenagers, or a five alarm fire.”

Casey snorted. “Have you babysat for Herrmann yet? Give me the fire any day.”

They lapsed into an easy silence, savoring their coffee.

“This is actually kind of nice,” Brett mused, draining her cup. “Although I have to admit, we both suck at actually giving up personal information about ourselves.”

“Maybe we should make it a habit?” Casey suggested. “Start out slow? First night and day after shift is for blowing off steam, but the second day is for us? Lazing around the apartment, maybe getting to know each other or watching a movie. Unwind before we go back to work.” He paused. “We could start before you actually move in, so that you still have the option of going back home—or changing your mind before you have to fully commit to things.” There, he thought. Nice and simple way to spend time with this intriguing woman, learning what made her tick, plus the added bonus of the more time she spent with him at home, the less time that made for dates with other men.

She nodded slowly. “I like it. Agreed. And I doubt that I’m going to change my mind, Casey, but it’s a valid point. She hesitated slightly. “Speaking of blowing off steam – can we agree now that any extracurricular activities are to be taken to their place, not back here? That was my agreement with Cruz and Otis, and it worked out really well.”

Casey shrugged, deliberately nonchalant. “I don’t plan on actively blowing off steam with anyone anytime soon, so that’s fine by me.”

That caught her attention. “Surely you’ve dated since I left for Fowlerton…” She frowned, thinking back.

He shrugged again. “Not really,” he said, but didn’t elaborate, not wanting to remind her of the playful agreement that he and Emily had on the occasions that they had gone out. Truth was, his last real ‘date-to-get-to-know-someone had been with Naomi; the few others there had been were mutual hookups, mainly at Emily’s urging (verbal shoving).

Besides, look what happened the one time he had tried with the actual intention of possibly getting to know her before they slept together; a semi enjoyable night with ‘Smart Girl’, as Severride had dubbed her, but the generation gap and mind set had been their almost immediate downfall.

“What about you?” he said casually. “You still regretting your decision to come back?”

She had said multiple times that she had done the right thing, but there had been enough doubt in her voice for him to keep probing at it, like a toothache that wouldn’t go away.

Still, she shook her head. “Absolutely not. Chicago is my home and everyone at 51 is my family. I didn’t love Kyle enough to sacrifice that, especially with the sense of déjà vu that I was getting the longer I stayed.” Shaking her head slightly, she stood up. “I need something stronger in my coffee if we’re going to continue down this path.”

“This is definitely month two, not day two roommate conversational material,” he agreed easily, backing off. “Speaking of Fowlerton though, did you have any crazy shifts while you were there?”

She blinked at him, startled by the change in topic, but grinned suddenly. “I only had two shifts.” She admitted. “The first one was deader than Morningside. Literally no calls, so I sat in the common room with the guys and learned the basics of football.” Casey opened his mouth and she pointed her finger at him. “No, I do not know who was playing or what the score was or any of that, but it was in Indiana so let’s assume it was the Colts and…someone.”

“Well that’s already an improvement,” he teased. “Maybe next season we’ll actually get you into the stadium for a football game, or we’ll do a House 51 group thing to a Cubs game.”

“Maybe,” she relented. “I can actually do baseball. Football, not so much. Still.” She wrinkled her nose. “Anyway, the second shift was much more exciting. Let’s just say that there’s a reason why the previous paramedics were also vet techs.”

He shot her a baffled look. “Born and raised city boy here. I have no idea how to take that comment.”

“When Mrs. Davis scolds her beautiful baby boy, she’ll be 100% serious when she complains about him being born in a barn – and raised by a pack of wolves.” Her shoulders shook with laughter. “Well, Australian Cattle Dogs, technically, but that doesn’t make for as good of a story.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope.” She shook her head, the laughter bubbling out. “Colin Michael Davis, 7lbs 8oz. was delivered right next to a litter of healthy puppies. Six boys, three girls. Mamas and all babies are thriving and growing like weeds, last I saw them.” She leaned forward and whispered, “I may or may not come back with a puppy after the holidays. Just a heads up. People in Fowlerton have various forms of currency.”

“We’ll negotiate terms when and if we get to that point,” he countered wryly, knowing a mostly lost cause when he heard it. Sylvie, Stella, and Emily had discovered that while he might be able to say no to one of them, he stood no chance when all three women banded together to badger him for a common cause or favor. Luckily for him, Emily didn’t particularly care for pets one way or another, so he just had to stay strong against the combined dangerous duo of Sylvie and Stella. Just. By the sunny smile she sent him, she knew it too.

“Thank you for a delicious breakfast Matt,” she said finally, standing up and stretching. “I need to head home to Cruz’s apartment, maybe run some errands.”

“You don’t have to wait until after the wedding to crash here, you know,” he said, once again deliberately casual. “I’ve now been on both ends of living as a couple and being the third wheel, so I can appreciate the need to have a place to escape to. And you’ve already got a key, so come over whenever.”

She smiled, touched by the offer. “I will keep that in mind,” she temporized, not quite ready to commit to anything yet. “I’ll see you later, Casey.”

He nodded silently, watching her leave.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Start of the Julie arc, with my twist on it. Enjoy!

Shift the following day was one of those days that you look forward to before you’re there, but once in the thick of things you can’t wait for it to just be done. The day had started with a house fire and gas leak and explosion, of which Casey and Gallo had narrowly avoided getting caught in. The fire itself was dealt with relatively quickly, but the rookie had ended up with a scalded wrist and a dimming of the usual bright optimism in his puppy dog brown eyes as he had carried the eight year old girl over to 61 to be checked out. Kidd and Casey were both keeping a close eye on him, but it was Kidd who saw the burns and was more instrumental in urging her dazed teammate back to the rig so that they could swing by Med and get him checked out. Casey had left her to it, knowing that she was a million times better than he would be at offering comfort and advice.

Back at 51, he had spent some time in the common room with Herrmann, Ritter, Mouch and the Engine guys, shooting the breeze and helping Ritter to wind the older firefighter up about something or another; he wasn’t even sure what the actual topic of contention was, just knew that riling his friend up was a common pastime and entertainment for nearly all of 51’s second shift. Leaving Herrmann sputtering and vowing revenge as the rest of the guys burst into laughter, Casey grinned at Mouch, winked at Ritter, and left them to it. He had just settled back into his office when there was a polite knock on his open door.

“You busy?”

He frowned slightly; Brett was nearly vibrating with tension, clutching a white envelope in one hand so tightly that her knuckles were nearly the same color as the paper.

“Not at all,” he replied, putting his pen down to give her his full attention as she stepped into his quarters, closing the door behind her.

“So the adoption intermissionary that I’ve been avoiding?” She began, leaning against the foot of his bed. “He’s persistent.” She held up the envelope as proof, waiting expectantly.

Casey eyed it; it was a plain, standard envelope with her name written on it in swirling, pretty script. “What is that?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, slumping slightly. “But it’s from my birth mother.” She turned the front back over, staring at her name. “That’s her handwriting.”

She sounded so forlorn and lost for a moment that Casey had to fight the urge to stay in his seat instead of standing to offer her physical comfort.

She shook her head, hard, and thrust the envelope at him. “You have to throw this away for me.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Yeah. I tried and I can’t do it, so I need you to,” she insisted, shaking it slightly. Her eyes were wide and anxious, and stress lines marred her forehead.

He eyed her warily for a moment before reluctantly accepting it. “Are you sure?”

“Hundred percent.” She answered with a firm nod, ignoring the slight tremble in her voice. “I just want it gone.”

“Okay,” he agreed, still watching her closely. “Consider it done.”

She relaxed slightly as soon as it was out of her hands, breathing a visible sigh of relief. He didn’t move until after she had left, tucking the envelope in his folio instead of the trash as she had requested. He had a feeling that once she got over the shock and panic that she would be back for it…

***

Casey puttered around his apartment the next evening, shutting off most of the lights and double checking the thermostat and other little things, delaying his departure. He wasn’t particularly in the mood for Molly’s but Emily and Severride had both threatened to physically drag his ass out (Em via text, Severride in person) if he didn’t at least make an appearance, so that had pretty much decided that. He really shouldn’t have given Severride a spare key to his new apartment…

Done with his checks, he reluctantly grabbed his coat, wallet, keys. He got two steps before he thought about his phone, but the impatient rapping on the door caught his attention first. Frowning, since only a couple of people knew he had moved out, he opened the door, quickly stepping out of the way as Sylvie came blowing in, all rosy cheeks and determined blue eyes and talking a mile a minute.

It took a second for him to catch up, but once he did Casey sighed and relaxed slightly, listening to her impassioned, rambling speech and waiting patiently for her to wind down.

“So I guess what I’m saying is, can I have that envelope back?”

He widened his eyes, adopting his most innocent expression and tone. “You saw me get rid of it,” he said.

Her nervous energy fled as she slowed to stare at him, eyes narrowed skeptically. “So you’re telling me,” she said slowly. “That you didn’t go back as soon as I was gone to retrieve it out of the trash?”

Off the floor, actually; he had let it slip behind the trash can after noticing the remnants of someone’s greasy lunch on top of the trash. The envelope was a bit dingy, but the paper inside was protected.

She relaxed as he did, the corners of his eyes crinkling into a fond smile. “Are you going to yell at me again if I did?” he teased, even as he went over to where he had tossed his bag on the couch, retrieving the envelope from the protected side pocket and handing it to her. He lingered for a minute but her attention was all for the paper in her hands so he turned away, intending to text Severride about the delay and give her some privacy.

“Wait. Will you stay with me while I open it?”

Casey turned back to see her watching him, pleading in her tired eyes. She offered a wan smile. “Please?”

That one small word, and vulnerability behind it, punched him in the gut like nothing else could.

“Of course,” he responded instantly.

Brett relaxed slightly as he moved closer, comforted by his presence and silent strength. She took a deep breath, glancing up at him for reassurance, before tearing the envelope open and unfolding the paper.

He watched a myriad of emotions fly across her expressive face as she scanned the contents, her forehead creasing into a frown as she made a small sound of disappointment. “It’s just a name and an address,” she said, her eyes flickering up to him before returning to the page. “My mother’s name is Julie…and she lives here in Illinois.” Casey moved to peer over her shoulder as she turned the page so he could see. “Rockford. That’s not far from here.”

Sudden tears welled up, the stress of the last week finally catching up to her. “Casey, I don’t –“

“Shh,” he soothed, pulling her into his arms with a sigh. “Easy. Let it go, Sylvie. I got you.”

She melted into him, hot tears soaking his shirt as her body shook and trembled with exhaustion, the paper fluttering to the floor as she burrowed into him. He stood there quietly, solid as an oak in a storm, feeling helpless and racking his brain for a way to comfort or do _something_ , when she finally lifted her head.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, her voice hoarse as she tried to pull away. “I should – “

“Stay exactly as you are,” Casey interrupted firmly, tightening his arms. “Or actually – c’mere.” In one solid move he scooped her up, frowning at how fragile and light she felt. “No more of Foster’s spin classes for you for a while,” he murmured. “You’ve lost weight, Sylvie.”

She grumbled a reply, tucking her face in the crook of his neck and shoulder and breathing in his smoke and cedar scent as he carried her to the couch. “Not a firefighter. Can’t order me around.”

“It was a strongly worded suggestion,” he countered lightly. “Go to sleep, Sunshine. You can yell at me tomorrow.” He felt more than heard her sleepy sound of agreement as she succumbed to her exhaustion.

It took a bit of maneuvering, especially with an arm and lapful of boneless, sleepy, and warm Sylvie Brett curled up against him like a kitten, but somehow he managed, more less reclining on the couch and grabbing his phone in the process. Sylvie moved restlessly in her sleep and he soothed her, waiting until she quieted before picking up his phone.

He winced at the sudden glaring brightness of his screen, quickly turning it down before it could wake the woman in his arms, before texting Jay Halstead, asking if he could stop by 51 sometime the next day. From there he shot off two more messages, one to Severride (and to Emily, since she was working at Molly’s), and the other to Cruz, before setting the alarm and closing his eyes. 6am was going to come soon enough, whether he wanted it to or not.

***

Brett woke slowly the next morning, more comfortable and warm than she had ever been in her life. Except…she moved her head restlessly, trying to find a better spot. Had Cruz replaced her pillow with a rock? What was this?

“You know, no matter how much you try to fluff my shoulder, it’s not going to get any more comfortable,” a familiar amused deep voice said from above her head.

Her eyes flew open and she scrambled to sit up as Casey laughed, finally able to move from his reclined position as well. “Casey! What – how – when,” she babbled, running a hand through her hair, frantically trying to catch up.

“Breathe, Sylvie.” He chuckled. “You talked yourself into changing your mind – again- and came over to actually open the envelope instead of yelling at me again.”

She sighed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Because of course you went back and got it,” she nodded, the events of the night before flooding back. “Which…thank you for doing that.” She shook her head, offering him a wry smile. “Always the hero, Casey, even protecting me from myself when I need it.”

Surprise and gratitude flashed in his eyes before he returned the smile. “I know what it’s like to be too close to something to see things clearly,” he replied. “You just needed a little time to resolve the situation between your heart and your head.”

She stifled an inward sigh; typical Casey, brushing off the compliment as always. “Well, thank you for not listening to me, even though I yelled at you.” She frowned. “How did we end up on the couch?”

“You still haven’t told Kidd or Foster about your birth mom yet, have you?” he countered, nodding when she shook her head guiltily. “Pretty sure the stress of you actually keeping a secret from them, plus the general anxiety of the entire situation, just overwhelmed you last night. Let’s not do that again, hmm?”

She grimaced. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Copy that.”

“I was going to carry you to your room, but you were so exhausted that it was just easier to stay here,” he continued, fudging a bit of the truth. Technically, he could have continued to her room in the first place when he had initially picked her up instead of just moving to the couch, but she had held on to him tighter when he had tried to put her down and he hadn’t had the heart or strength to resist the opportunity to have her in his arms for a while.

Brett shot him a sidelong glance, but didn’t question it, especially since she had enjoyed waking up next to him. It was an experience that she could easily get used to. Fast. Except that they were friends, and she didn’t want to ruin that, especially with how close they were quickly becoming.

“So. Julie lives in Rockford?” She said instead, returning the subject back to her birth mom.

Casey nodded, standing and stretching and rolling his neck a bit to get the kinks out of it. “I contacted Jay Halstead and asked him if he could meet us at 51 sometime today if he gets a chance. Thought he might be willing to run a background check on her, see if there’s anything that might be a red flag or would give us more insight on why she’s trying to contact you now after all these years. That is, if you’re comfortable with telling him about what’s going on.”

She nodded, touched by his protectiveness and forthrightness. “That’s a really good idea, actually. Thanks, Casey.”

He smiled, relieved. “Of course. I also texted Cruz and asked him to bring your gear to the station early so you didn’t have to run home. Just let me jump in the shower really quick, and we can go.”

“Wait. What time is it?” She frowned, glancing around for a clock. “And remind me to add a wall clock to the list of stuff to buy when I officially move in.”

“It’s only 6:30,” he answered. “I’ll be fast.”

“Roll call is at 8,” she reminded him with a smile. “I can run home and shower and change.”

Disappointment flashed through him, but he nodded. “Might be an idea to leave a spare set of gear here anyway though,” he suggested. “Just in case.” He offered a quick smile before turning away to head for his room. “I’ll see you at the firehouse then.”

She nodded, a slight frown in her eyes as she watched him leave. “Matt.” He was nearly to the hallway when he turned. “Thank you. You’ve been incredible lately, letting me vent, helping me with Mister Larson and Dusty last month, all of it. I just…thank you.”

“Anytime,” he answered quietly. “Whatever you need, Sylvie. You only have to ask.”


	12. Chapter 12

Whatever she had sensed from him, it was gone by the time she found him again at 51. He was walking down the main corridor, just passing the doors leading out to the app floor, so she slipped in behind and around him, bumping his shoulder companionably with hers as she matched his long strides.

“So,” she began cheerfully as he jumped in surprise. “I managed to get home and out again early-“

“Good morning to you too.”

“-and I had a little extra time, so I stopped by Chocolatte and got you coffee and donuts as a thank you.” She finished with a grin as they walked towards the common room. “Ty says hi, by the way.”

Casey accepted the cup and bag with a laugh. “I bet that’s not the only thing that Ty said.”

“Of course not,” she agreed, her lips twitching in amusement. “Daria was there to keep him in line as always though. She said to tell you that you got the last creampuff, but she’ll have a fresh batch before next shift.” She tsked at him. “Who knew that Matt Casey had such a sweet tooth?”

Casey bit back the suggestive response that flew to his lips, instead offering a sheepish smile and shrug as they stepped into the room. “Not my fault that all the women in my life are fantastic cooks and bakers,” he protested good naturedly, sitting next to Severride and kicking his friend’s chair in greeting.

“You are so full of crap.” The other man snorted. “Brett, don’t let Casey sucker you in. For some reason women fall for the wide eyed golden boy charm and immediately start clucking and cooing over how he needs a good home cooked meal, or some bull. He’s been pulling this crap since Academy.”

“Hey, you weren’t complaining when you made the mistake of letting Shay try to cook for Thanksgiving and she nearly burned your apartment down,” Casey retorted, gesturing with his cup. “It was too late in the day for me to start over since you both insisted that she had it handled, so Cindy took pity on all three of us and invited us over to Herrmann’s for dinner instead.” He raised his brows at his friend pointedly. “That was the year that she perfected her brownie recipe, and you bribed Annabelle with the last one so that she would finally go to sleep afterward.”

“Oh yeah.” Severride smirked. “It worked though.”

“Yeah, but you failed to tell her that it was actually only about a quarter of the last brownie, because you had stuffed the rest in your mouth coming up the stairs.” Casey snorted, pulling out the creampuff.

“Hey, she was only five. Sweets before bedtime weren’t good for her.” He laughingly swatted away a couple of the paper balls tossed at him from the others, including one Herrmann himself who hadn’t heard that particular story, as the bells rang for Ambo.

“Here,” Casey said to Brett as she passed by, holding out the pastry bag. “Coffee isn’t much of a breakfast.”

He knew as well as she did that she liked getting through a few calls before eating, since the antiseptic smell of the hospitals and some of the early calls didn’t always agree with a hearty breakfast, but he thought a couple of donuts would be okay. She was tough. Her sidelong look said she thought he was being extra bossy this morning, but she took it. Foster shot him a smirk as she followed her partner out.

He returned his own attention to his food and coffee, only to pause mid bite when he noticed both Severride and Kidd watching him. “What?”

“Cruz said that Brett stayed at your place last night,” Kidd replied as the burly firefighter moved closer. “Something you want to share with the class there Casey?”

He shook his head. “Not what you think,” he said, ignoring Severride’s snort of disbelief. “Not my story to tell either, but…Brett’s birth mom has been trying to contact her recently.”

They tensed, instantly dropping the teasing. “Is that why she’s been so distracted and stressed lately?” Kidd frowned. “I thought it was because she as helping Chloe out with wedding details. She’s tougher than I am; I don’t know if I could deal with all of that after two failed engagements.”

“Chloe brought that up too, but Sylvie insisted; recommended some really great businesses and things that we never would’ve thought of,” Cruz told her. “Is the birth mom thing why she came to see you last night, Casey?”

Casey stifled a groan; he loved his 51 family, but they gossiped worse than anyone he knew, and had no hesitations with doing some well intentioned meddling if they thought it would help.

“You two have been spending a lot of time together lately,” Cruz continued, oblivious to the sudden raised brows and looks exchanged between Severride, Kidd, and Casey, who glared at them in warning.

“Just helping out a friend,” he said pointedly as the bells rang again, this time calling Truck out to an accident.

“Yup. Of course. Whatever you say, Capt.,” Kidd nodded as they headed for the rig. “Whatever you say.”

The call turned out to be a multi car accident; chain reaction started a student driver slamming on his brakes to avoid the bicyclist that darted out in front of him and instead getting rear ended by the driver being a jerk and following way too close. Luckily for the kid, his teacher was an off duty cop who was in no way intimidated by the blustery anger of the businessman now late to his meeting through his own carelessness, and luckily for everyone involved, there were no major injuries.

Casey listened for a minute to the rather impressive lecture from the cop to the now cowed man, before exchanging amused grins with Mouch. “Okay guys, pack it up!”

They returned to the house, Mouch already poking at Gallo about lunch – or at least a proper late breakfast as they headed inside. Casey paused he as rounded the front of the rig, noticing that 61 was still gone.

“Ambo still isn’t back from that call this morning?” he questioned, stopping at the Squad table.

“No, they came back long enough to restock before they were gone again,” Severride replied. “Two jacks.”

The Truck Captain watched as Capp eagerly plucked three cards out of his hand and laid them on the thick pile. “Three queens.”

Severride’s eyes flickered to Casey, who smirked, shaking his head in an abbreviated negative sign. His friend returned the smirk. “Bullshit,” he challenged, as Capp groaned. “Yup, that’s right, pick them allll up…”

Satisfied that he had done his part to disrupt at least one Squad member’s day, Casey snickered and continued on his way. He had just settled at his desk with another cup of coffee when his phone rang.

“Hey Jay,” he greeted the caller, putting him on speaker so he could continue writing.

“Hey,” the detective replied, sounding weary. “I know you asked if I could stop by but things have been crazy and I haven’t been able to get away. What’s up?”

“Nothing, hopefully.” Casey sighed. “Sylvie’s birth mom contacted her after 30 years of no contact. Hope it’s genuine, but I was wondering if you could run her name through the system? Make sure there aren’t any surprises or red flags before Sylvie meets her in person.”

“Yeah, I hear you,” Jay replied. “Give me the name and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Julie Winters. She lives in Rockford, apparently. Thanks, Jay.”

“Anytime, bro. Give me a few hours and I’ll be in touch when I have something, even if it’s nothing.”

“Appreciate it. And I owe you, big time.”

The other man’s warm laugh filled the room. “Nah, but you know that I will never say no to a free beer at Molly’s.”

Casey chuckled. “I got you covered.”

“Awesome. Later, man.”

They hung up, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He knew Sylvie, and how stubborn she could be when she set her mind to something. Now that she knew where her birth mother lived, there was no way she wouldn’t seek her out at some point. At least this way she wouldn’t go in fully blind, although he was determined that she wasn’t going alone either way.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters because they're semi short and go together! Enjoy!

61 eventually returned to the house that evening. Casey was doing some maintenance checks on 81 when they pulled up and the girls jumped out, their faces lined with exhaustion.

“How many calls is that tonight?” He called with a frown.

“I lost count,” Brett replied wearily as they trudged towards him.

“Mercury is in retrograde,” Foster added grimly as she passed. Seeing his confused frown, she explained, “It’s a thing,” as she turned to look at Brett. “I’m gonna go collapse, hopefully before the bells go off again.”

The blonde nodded sympathetically, watching her stride off before turning to Casey with a wan smile.

“You’ve been running around all day, but I wanted to give you an update,” he said, wanting to hide her in his quarters for a few hours so she could sleep in peace. “I went ahead and gave Halstead the info on your birth mom, and he’s running her now. CPD has been as swamped as you have been tonight.”

She nodded, not having the energy for much more than that as they walked slowly towards the doors.

Cruz, Capp, and Tony came out, each carrying a loaded plate of food. “Chow’s up,” Cruz informed them as he headed for the Squad table.

“Oh thank God,” Brett sighed, quickening her step. “We dined at the Med vending machines for lunch today.”

Casey grimaced in sympathy; after a breakfast of donuts, more sugar or whatever junk they had gotten at the hospital wasn’t much help in boosting energy. Before they had taken another two steps the bells blared again for Ambo. Brett about faced and headed back to the rig with a resigned sigh.

“Mercury sucks,” Foster grumbled as she passed him, making him smile sympathetically.

“I’ll put something aside for you,” he called after them.

Brett managed a tired smile as she opened the heavy door to the rig. “Thanks.”

He watched them pull out, sirens blaring, before heading inside and asking Gallo to set aside two plates for the girls before he stored the rest of the food in spare containers for later. That done, he retreated to his office, both to finally alleviate some paperwork and because he couldn’t hide the underlying worry about the unusual number of calls for Ambo. He lasted maybe ten minutes before cursing.

“You feel it too, don’t you?”

He looked up to meet Severride’s knowing gaze. He cursed again, more vividly this time, and they took off for the Tower.

Chief Boden was already there with Herrmann and Mouch, flipping through the call log as his other two officers joined him. Casey tensed; if all three old hands were feeling that same dread and premonition, then something really was brewing.

“No patterns or anything that stands out,” he informed them without preamble. “This is something more than summer accidents and bar fights though.”

As if on cue, the main radio crackled to life, Brett’s calm voice sounding loud and clear. “61 to main, requesting two additional ambulances and a rescue squad for forced entry and possible spinal injury.”

Severride didn’t wait for the alarms to finish blaring before he was gone, ordering the rest of Squad to load up. Alone, the four men exchanged a grim look and settled in to wait where they were.

Squad and Ambo returned a couple of hours later, bringing with them a grim story of three drug overdoses – and Sean Roman, former cop for the 21st District. Roman was on a search for his sister, who had gone missing the week before and who had been close friends with at least one of the OD victims.

Casey sat in on the meeting, but he was admittedly more concerned with making sure that Brett and Foster ate something and got a chance to rest. Severride was on the case though, so he was confident that his friend would do everything he could to help Roman find his sister. A quiet word with the Chief after the meeting had him agreeing to take 61 out of service for an hour, and gentle prodding reminded the girls of the food waiting for them. He retreated again after that so he wouldn’t be called out for hovering by his too observant friends.

It was good timing too; Halstead did manage to get back to him about thirty minutes into his stack of paperwork with an update on Julie: she was clean and legit, since follow up with the hospital in Indiana where Sylvie was born had confirmed the story.

“I don’t know why she has contacted Sylvie after all this time, but she is definitely the biological mother,” Halstead told him, his voice ripe with exhaustion. “I went ahead and checked out the husband too. Scott Winters. Not much on him either; not even a speeding ticket. House is decent looking, in a good neighborhood – you can check it out on Google maps before you two go, make sure you’re going to the right place.” Tired humor filled his tone. “Don’t go spreading that around; that’s a super-secret cop technique right there. You know, in case you change your mind.”

“Still good where I am, thanks.” Casey chuckled. “Severride said you guys have a lead on Roman’s sister. How’s he doing?”

“Oh well, you know us coppers. He’s taking it about as expected.”

“Leaning on everyone and sharing his grief then.”

“Exactly. Oh, and letting Intelligence work the case without him, since he’s such a relaxed and trusting type of guy.” The resigned sarcasm over the phone line was thick enough to choke on.

“Sounds about right.” Casey shook his head. “Anything else you need, you have only to ask. Got it?”

“Yeah, man.” Halstead confirmed. “Sorry I don’t have anything else for you about this Julie person. It was a nice distraction from the clusterfuck of a night in general.”

“Hey, we still know more than we did before. Better than going in based on a name and address on a page.” Casey replied. “I’ll text you with how the actual meet goes.”

“Appreciate it. Later.”

They hung up again and Casey took a breath, mentally rearranging his schedule so that he had the next couple of days free. He knew Sylvie; once her mind was made up, she was determined to see it through, and now that she knew where her birth mom lived, he knew that she wouldn’t be able to resist going to meet her in person.

Armed with the new information he went to find her, assuming that she was still in the common room with the others since she wasn’t in the bunk room. A flash of silvery blonde hair caught his eye before he had taken three steps, and he changed course to head to the locker room instead.

She was sitting on the bench, staring sightlessly at her locker, her pretty face in profile to him. His heart clenched at the absolute misery and loss on her face as he silently stepped into the room.

“You okay?”

She closed her eyes to stem the onslaught of tears that burned in her throat, and felt him move closer.

“Hey.” He waited until her eyes opened to look at him. “You saved two lives tonight. Try to focus on that,” he reminded her gently.

She closed her eyes again, taking a deep breath and holding it for a moment before letting it go, figuratively and literally. When she opened them again they were clear and dry, though still exhausted.

“I won’t keep you long – you and Foster only have another 45 minutes before Chief puts 61 back in service,” he began. “But Halstead got back to me early about Julie. She’s all clear; background checked out.” He shifted, slightly uncomfortable. “So if you’re thinking about still meeting her in person, I’d be happy to drive you to Rockford. I know you can handle it solo,” he hastened to add before she could respond. “Just thought it might help to have a buddy.”

The sleepy look had vanished with every word as she focused on him. Now a genuine smile lit up her face and eyes as she nodded. “That would be…amazing. Thank you, Casey.” She watched him relax slightly, the tension bleeding out of him as he nodded and left. She frowned after him, wondering why he had been so hesitant to offer his help and companionship when she had already shown that his opinion and support were important to her.

Dawson, she realized slowly. The headstrong Latina had been fiercely proud and protective of her independence, bending over backwards in an effort to _not_ depend on anyone else – even and especially her husband, despite admiring, encouraging, and praising his protective tendencies for everyone else. Brett could still remember some of the blow up arguments, mostly hearing about the aftermath from Dawson’s vents and rants in the ambo.

Well, Brett was not her former friend and partner, and had no desire to be – her inadvertent forays into danger and mayhem as the result of her various partners going off book had been more than enough to last her a lifetime, so she was relieved and grateful for Casey’s offer.

He was quickly becoming and an anchor point in her life, keeping her grounded and quietly offering support whenever and however he could. This whole thing with her birth mom – Julie – was just one more example. But as much as she appreciated and was coming to depend on him, Brett still wasn’t completely sure about his motives, or if he was really just that good of a person and was just being a friend. A ‘buddy’. She wrinkled her nose as she gathered her shower supplies.

If that was the case, then she was right back to where she had started the night she and the girls had had their semi emergency meeting about what she should do about Casey; how to get him to shift from seeing her as a coworker and friend to an actual woman and someone he might be interested in romantically.

“Let’s not go looking for trouble before we’re ready,” she mumbled, her voice bouncing off of the lockers as she resolutely stood.

Her immediate plans were clear: get through the rest of the shift, survive a two hour car ride with Matt Casey, either in the close confines of his truck or her car, and deal with the emotional roller coaster of meeting the woman who had given her life and then given her up for nearly 30 years suddenly appearing back in her life. Anything after that was just going to have to wait.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the Julie arc, again with my twist on it. Things are starting to speed up and heat up, I promise!

Part one of her plan – survive the rest of shift – actually went without a hitch. The shower helped, and Gallo and Ritter had cobbled together another meal for her and Foster, which also helped to restore energy far more than a cat nap would have. The excessive number of calls had died down as well by the time 61 was put back in service, so everyone was able to relax a bit for the rest of the night and through to the next morning.

Casey caught up with Brett as she was walking out, shortening his stride slightly to match hers. “Did you want to go to Rockford today, or tomorrow?”

She squinted up at him with a wry smile. “Have I gotten so predictable then, that you would just assume that I wanted to go right away?” She teased, nudging him.

“Maybe I just know you,” he replied lightly. “You aren’t going to be able to relax until you go. You know it, and I know it. So what time should I pick you up?”

“Don’t know if I like being that predictable,” she mock grumbled. “11:30 work?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find some new way to surprise me,” he flashed her a grin, drawing her gaze involuntarily to his mouth.

She wondered if her leaning up and tasting that laughter, kissing that smile right off of his face, would qualify as surprising him. And that was _so_ not a line of thought that she wanted to pursue when she was going to be alone with him in a vehicle.

“And yes, 11:30 works. See you in a few hours,” he continued, oblivious, splitting off from her to stride over to his truck.

She watched him drive away, fighting the urge to bury her face in her hands. “Oh, I’m in _so_ much trouble…”

***

He was true to his word, and part two of her plan – survive a car ride with Matt Casey in close quarters – was underway, for better or for worse.

They were in his truck, since he had offered to drive. It was marginally better than her car, but the subtle scent of smoke, cedar, and sawdust still filled her senses. She lasted a whole three minutes before she indulged herself and breathed deeply, immediately cracking her window afterwards to clear her head – and cool her flushed cheeks.

“You okay?” Casey asked, glancing over to where she was now staring resolutely out the window.

“Yeah, just trying to wake up,” she replied, closing the window. She didn’t offer anything else, and they lapsed into comfortable silence with the radio playing quietly. They were well outside of Chicago city limits when she spoke again.

“You know, finding my birth mom wasn’t even on my radar a month ago,” she mused, still watching the scenery outside. “Now here I am, and my whole life is about to change.”

“It doesn’t have to, “Casey countered, causing her to turn and frown at him. “Things only have to change if you want them to.” He knew she resented the out of control feeling that she had had since the adoption intermediary had first contacted her. “You’re still in control here, Sylvie. I can turn this truck around right now.” He nodded at an upcoming exit. “That exit has a diner that makes the best burgers and milkshakes in Illinois, along with a secret sauce that McDonald’s can only imitate, never replicate.” He saw her reluctant smile out of the corner of his eye. “But I’ve never known you to back down from a challenge.”

Warmth filled her at the sheer confidence and belief in his voice even as she grimaced. Darn him for knowing just what to say as always, she thought ruefully. “As delicious as those milkshakes and burgers sound, maybe we’ll stop on the way back,” she temporized, seeing his brief proud grin flash. “I know that I’m in control. Just…now my perception of her has changed.” Feeling his questioning glance, she reluctantly elaborated, “When I was younger, maybe 5 or 6, I went through a serious Disney Princess phase, and I used to imagine that my parents were…British Royals.”

“Seriously?” Casey snorted with laughter, his eyes bright with mirth as he double checked his GPS and followed the directions off of the freeway.

“Yeah. I had a very active imagination,” she laughed at the memory. “And it was about the time that Princess Diana and Prince Charles got married, and she was beautiful and had blonde hair and blue eyes like me. Both of my parents have sandy hair and hazel eyes, although my younger brother the weirdo has blonde hair and brown eyes.” She sent him a teasing smirk as he rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I could at least control my perception of her. “Now I can’t.”

Casey pulled up to the curb and shut off the engine. “Then let’s replace perception with solid reality once and for all,” he said quietly, nodding at the house behind her.

She whirled around to look, eyes wide, at the charming little house, complete with flower pots on the steps and an American flag hanging proudly from the right side overhang.

“Sylvie?” He prompted after a moment, the silent question clear.

She jumped slightly, startled. “I’m going!” she exclaimed, her voice high with uncertainty. Taking a deep breath and feeling his steady gaze on her, she opened the truck door. “I’m doing this.” Her voice the second time was steadier and full of determination. She stepped out of the truck as Casey watched, only to immediately turn back, needing the reassurance. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” he responded immediately, infusing the two words with all the confidence he could. It had an instant affect; her shoulders straightened as she threw him one last nervous smile before walking up to the front door and knocking firmly.

A man answered, though Brett was blocking Casey’s view of his face. They were too far away for him to hear, especially with his windows up, but it was impossible to miss her entire body slumping in disappointment as the man closed the door firmly in her face. Despondent, she trudged back to the truck, automatically putting on her seat belt as she avoided his gaze, not wanting to see the sympathy – or worse, disappointment – in his eyes.

“Sylvie. What happened?” Casey asked, fighting the urge to jump out and go confront the man himself. Whatever he had told her had shattered her, and it was taking everything in him not to storm over and knock the guy out for putting that heartbroken expression on her face.

“She doesn’t live here anymore. Or never did.” She answered numbly. “I don’t know anymore.”

That didn’t make any sense though, he thought. “So she wrote down the wrong address?” he frowned. “But Jay said that the name and address checked out.”

“I know,” she sighed, closing her eyes and resting her head on the headrest. “Maybe he recognized my name and just said it because she changed her mind.” Shaking her head, she returned her gaze to the house. “And maybe this is just a sign from the universe that I should’ve just taken you up on that offer for burgers and milkshakes.” She swallowed hard, before looking resolutely forward. “Let’s just go.”

He didn’t know what to say or do, so he complied. They drove back in silence once more, stopping once for gas. He stayed just long enough to watch her enter her apartment building and see her wave from inside before he took off. He got all the way home and almost immediately turned around, heading to one of his current favorite renovations.

Mister Larson had returned to Great Falls with Dusty the cat after his wife’s funeral and a tearful goodbye to Brett and Casey. Casey had immediately offered to buy his house, knowing from the day that they had gone to first look for Dusty that it had good bones and was in a prime neighborhood so it would flip quickly. Mister Larson had sold it to him for a steal, a fraction of his asking price, despite Casey’s protests.

He had intended to fix it up and renovate it a bit, maybe offer it to Cruz and Chloe at a similar reduced price as a wedding gift. The house was charming and quaint, located only a block down from Herrmann and Cindy, which meant that it was a great school district and not a bad commute to work. He hadn’t told anyone about the purchase, not even Brett, although he had every intention of asking for her help on furnishings and design, especially if Cruz and Chloe accepted his offer.

At the moment though, he was a quarter of the way through gutting the fire damaged portions up and down stairs, which suited his mood perfectly. Setting his phone to his favorite playlist, he donned a pair of safety glasses and grabbed his sledgehammer for some physical therapy, although he really wasn’t sure why he was so frustrated and upset.

A lot of it was on Brett’s behalf, he acknowledged, falling into the familiar patterns and rhythms of demolition. He had tried so hard to protect her from disappointment, and yet somehow she had still managed to get hurt. It had felt like a failure on his part, seeing her so heartbroken by a cruel trick.

Frustration turned to sudden hot anger as he dropped the sledge and picked up his phone.

“Jay? It’s Casey again. Can you text me Julie’s phone number? She wasn’t there when we went. The guy Sylvie talked to said that Julie didn’t live there at all.”

“What?” Halstead sputtered. “He was lying through his teeth, man.”

“I know, but that means that either Julie set this all up to play some extremely cruel trick, or he didn’t want Sylvie to meet Julie for some reason. I just want to talk to her directly, see if I can get to the bottom of this.”

“Damnit, it was supposed to be a milk run,” the other man sighed. “Okay, yeah. Here you go.” He rattled off the number, which Casey wrote down on a scrap of paper.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Let me know how it goes, and please don’t get yourself arrested. Or at least make him swing first so you can claim self-defense.”

Casey smiled grimly. “Copy that.” Calm once more, he dialed the number, listening impatiently as it rang a few times before a female voice picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” he began. “Julie Winters?”

“Speaking,” she answered automatically. “Who is this?”

“My name is Matt Casey, and I’m a friend of your daughter.” He stated, hearing her gasp.

“You know Sylvie?” She breathed.

“Yes ma’am. She’s one of my closest friends. In fact, I was the one who drove her to your house in Rockford, today. At least, we went to the address you gave us, but – “

“You talked to my husband, Scott. Or Sylvie did.” She interrupted quickly. “I apologize for him; I had just told him yesterday that I have a daughter. He wasn’t very pleased with the news, which is why he lied.”

Casey frowned. “You just told your husband yesterday that you have a daughter that is thirty years old?” He repeated incredulously. “No offense, but I probably would have reacted the same way.”

“Well I –“

“Give me one good reason why I should tell you anything else about Sylvie,” he demanded. “You waited thirty _years_ , Mrs. Winters, and your husband’s lies yesterday have done nothing but hurt her further and unburied feelings that she had found peace with. Why are you trying to contact her now, after all this time?”

She was quiet for a long moment. “I was sixteen when I got pregnant with Sylvie, Mister Casey,” she said finally. “Her father was my high school sweetheart, two years older and someone who was no more ready to be a parent than I was. He took off for college and didn’t look back. I was the one who made the choice to give my girl up so that she could grow up with people who would love and protect her and raise her far better than I ever could. I do not, will not, cannot, ever regret that decision.” Her voice rang with absolution before it softened. “As for why now, well…” she hesitated. “As we grow older and come full circle, we think about where we began, and what we wish we could change about our past. Not knowing my daughter, even from a distance, is one of those things that I wish I could change now, which is why I reached out. I’m trying to make amends.”

Casey gritted his teeth, warring hard with himself. “Sylvie works as a paramedic at Firehouse 51.” He said abruptly. “We are on shift tomorrow, and then off for two days. If you – only you – stop by, I’ll do my best to make sure she talks to you.” His voice darkened with warning. “One more chance, Mrs. Winters. If you don’t come tomorrow, don’t bother coming at all. Ever.”

She let out a slow breath. “Thank you. I’ll be there.”

He hesitated, then added,” One more thing. Do not tell her that I called you. Say you found her info online, or your husband saw my logo on my truck and looked me up and figured out that I’m a firefighter. I don’t care. Just leave me out of it. Please.”

He ended the call, staring at the dark screen and desperately hoping he had made the right decision – and that Sylvie wouldn’t hate him for it either way.

***

As it turned out, she hadn’t, because Julie had kept her promises. She told Sylvie that she had found her online in some articles from various Chicago newspapers, and that was how she knew that she was a paramedic at 51. Casey had backed off after that initial meeting, giving the newly reunited mother and daughter a chance to get acquainted. He understood Julie’s explanation much better now, wanting to reconnect with her first born before she brought her second child into the world.

Her husband Scott remained in Rockford, either by her choice or his, Casey didn’t particularly care. The man was an ass for choosing his work over his expecting wife, so he could just stay right where he was. Julie and Sylvie were doing just fine without him, growing closer every day, and seeing the joy and happiness on Sylvie’s face was more than enough reward for Casey, despite the fact that he missed her more and more every day.


	15. Chapter 15

It was early, about thirty minutes before shift was set to start, but Sylvie had wanted to get a head start on the restocking that 61 desperately needed after the week. 1st shift had left things in shambles, as usual, but the tasks would give her some much needed quiet time. She had just unloaded her armful into the back and was turning away when a familiar amused voice sounded behind her.

“Good morning, Sunshine. You’re here early.”

She turned to see Casey walking towards her, and smiled brightly, drinking in the sight of him. “Just wanted to get a head start before the madness of the day,” she replied, brushing off her hands. “I could say the same for you.”

“Goes with being an officer,” he shrugged. “First in, last out. That includes all things, not just fires.”

“Do you remember the time before you were an officer?” she teased.

“Like a distant dream. Or another life. Back when I had one,” he retorted wryly. “Hey, Foster told me that you and Julie are going house hunting on Friday?”

Of course her partner would mention that to him. She stifled a groan, her demeanor instantly changing. “Yeah, um, Julie is anxious to get settled before the baby comes,” she replied warily. “Did she…say anything else?” Like how the real estate agent had asked her out on a date, but she had turned him down because she was interested in the man in front of her?

“No. Was she supposed to?” He frowned.

“Nope. Was just wondering. You know how Foster likes to ramble on,” she said hastily. “Why, what’s up?”

“Uh huh.” Casey eyed her, noting the faint blush, and made a mental note to track down his pseudo girlfriend wing woman type person. She was apparently holding out on him. “Not to ruin your fun, since I know you love house hunting, but you may want to hold off, because I have a place that might be perfect for Julie.” He shot her a teasing grin.

“This is the second time you have deprived me of my fun, Matt Casey,” she mock grumbled, wrinkling her nose. “But tell me about this house.”

“Mister Larson’s house.” He informed her proudly, as her jaw dropped. “He and Dusty returned to Great Falls after the funeral, so I bought it. I was going to offer it to Chloe and Cruz, but I don’t think that they’re going to want to leave the apartment so soon .”

She continued to stare at him, making him shift uncomfortably. “It’s a block up from Herrmann’s house, so it’s a good neighborhood and it’s in the same school district that Donna and Christie both teach in, so your sister will have a great education, plus you know Cindy would be delighted to have a new firehouse mom to join the club –“

She launched herself at him, not even questioning whether he would catch her. He grunted softly as his arms were suddenly full of soft, sweet woman, his hands going to her hips to steady her as she threw her arms around his neck, rising up on her tip toes to press against him in a full body, chest to chest, toe to toe hug.

“Matt Casey, you are absolutely incredible!” She exclaimed, kissing him soundly on the cheek and narrowly missing his mouth. “I need to go call Julie!”

She was gone before he could react, in a flurry of blond hair and cherry blossoms, leaving him staring after her.

**

Sylvie ducked into the firehouse and then back outside, out of sight of the app floor where she had left Casey. Leaning against the wall, she pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks and still tingling lips in an effort to cool them. She had kissed Casey! Granted, it had just been on the cheek, but she could still feel him pressed up against her, hear the sharp catch of his breath, his hands tight on her hips…and the unmistakable feel of him growing hard against her, before she had ran away.

And now she had no idea how to act when she saw him next. Act normal? Pretend like nothing had happened? Jump him in his office and kiss him for r—

“Nope. Not gonna do it,” she muttered. “We are friends. Good Friends. That is all.” Straightening from the wall, she began pacing back and forth. “Not friends with benefits, not friends to lovers, not friends to whatever Hollywood comes up with next. Just. Friends. That’s what he needs, so that is what I will be.”

She nodded firmly, satisfied with her mini lecture to herself, and pulled out her phone to call Julie. It wasn’t until late afternoon that she worked up the courage to go actually find Casey though.

“Hey,” she said, hovering in the doorway instead of coming all the way into his quarters.

He glanced up and smiled distractedly at her, finishing his phone call before coming to lean against the wall opposite the doorway. “Hey yourself,” he replied with an easy smile, slipping his hands into his jacket pockets. “What’s up?”

“So I talked to Julie,” she began, trying to project the same air of normal casualness that he was. “Told her about the house, a little bit of the backstory, and she wants it. If you are still willing.”

He frowned, straightening. “Sight unseen? I mean, it’s done, but – “

“Sight unseen.” She confirmed. “Casey, she trusts you, and knows that I trust you. You wouldn’t have offered the house if it wasn’t already finished to your high standards. So yes. In fact, she suggested that she rent the house instead of buy it outright, so that you can have an additional source of income.”

“That’s fine by me, but I’ve never been a landlord before, “ he protested. “Wouldn’t it make better business sense for her to buy outright and go through the bank?”

Sylvie sighed, wincing a bit as she glanced away. “Matt…Scott left her.” She said gently. “Took a job in Cleveland, the money they got from selling their house, and his secretary with him and left divorce papers and an empty house for her to come home to. She works as a virtual assistant and online bookkeeper, so she can pick that up when and wherever as long as she has internet, but she just lost half of her income. Renting will be easier right now than buying, especially from a friend.”

“Dammit,” he cursed, shaking his head. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah. She knew it was coming – Scott isn’t high level enough to have had as many ‘meetings’ as he did.” She replied scornfully. “And she’s still friends with enough people at his job that they ratted him out.”

“Well, good riddance. Couldn’t have happened to a more deserving guy.” Casey said stoutly, making her smile. “Tell Julie that she is more than welcome to the house, and that there is no rush on anything. I’ll stop by sometime soon and help to baby proof the place, maybe grab Cruz for a day to get the baby’s room and the furniture moved in. Mister Larsen left a lot of the big pieces that were mildly smoke damaged, so if she doesn’t mind paying for the cleaning bill, it’s a pretty much furnished house.”

“I will let her know.” She smiled, relieved when he returned it with his familiar grin. “Thank you, Casey.”

“What? No kiss this time?” he teased as she moved away. The smile was still there, but it had grown a hint of teeth and there was a challenging glint in his eyes as she turned back to look at him.

Her eyes narrowed slightly in response. “That was a spontaneous reaction to a thoughtful and surprising gesture,” she replied lightly. “This is more of a conversation and a bit of a business transaction between friends.” She deliberately stressed the last word a bit more, and watched the spark fade a bit.

“Copy that,” he said, his voice suddenly bland and neutral. “Tell Julie that I will bring the key to the house with me next shift so that she can come and go as she pleases.”

She nodded slowly, ignoring the disappointed pang that shot through her as he abruptly pulled out his desk chair and sat down without looking at her. “I’ll let her know.” She said quietly, watching as he picked up the closest piece of paper and started to read. She hesitated slightly, but when he continued to ignore her, she sighed and left, closing the door quietly behind her.

Casey watched her leave out of the corner of his eye before throwing his pen down with a heavy sigh. Friend zoned. After all the time they had spent together, all the conversations and almost moments and everything over the past few months, he had just been firmly and irrevocably friend zoned by the one woman he was utterly and completely infatuated with and attracted to -and either didn’t return his feelings or had no idea that they even existed.

Letting out a bark of bitter laughter, he threw his head back, rubbing his hands over his face. So what the hell was he supposed to do now? Continue on, and just settle for being her friend in whatever capacity she needed him, or move on and get on with his life?

Just the thought made him grimace. Soldier on as he was then, and hope that someday – soon – Sylvie would give him an opportunity to show her that they could be much more than just friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of a scene than a chapter, but next chapter is up, so keep going!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvie gets a letter, yells at Casey, and gets a bit riled up.

Casey stifled a yawn as he turned to close the door to his quarters, his mind already on his second cup of coffee, despite shift not having technically started. He had come in early again, partly to get a head start on the end of the month reviews and reports that were due before everyone started littering his desk for the inevitable last minute requests to switch shifts or just take time off altogether, but mostly because Sylvie had started making a habit of coming in a bit early too.

She usually stopped in the common room for coffee and then would wander down the hall to his office and come hang out, keeping him company while he attempted to do the paperwork that was piling higher and higher on his desk, not knowing that she was more of a welcome distraction than an asset. It was something that she had started doing completely on her own, but he wasn’t going to question it. He suspected that Julie might have given her a nudge though; the glint of not so hidden amusement that sparkled in her blue eyes, so much like her daughter’s, told him that she saw right through him and his efforts to regain the time spent with Sylvie by coming over to help with her new house. It was something he would have done anyway, but the added bonus of a certain bright bubbly blonde in her element, wiggling and dancing to her extra pop-y music list that she had made just to tease him as they painted the baby’s room and slowly turned the house into a home, was something that he would not have turned down for a million dollars.

She wouldn’t be in early that morning though; Julie had invited her for coffee and an early breakfast at Chocolatte, so Casey was alone. He missed her, but was a bit grateful for the respite, since he was actually reducing a bit of the various piles on his desk.

The words blurring on the page convinced him that a second cup of coffee was indeed in order before morning roll call and briefing. Standing up with a groan, he opened his door and took three steps—and ran straight into Sylvie. Or rather, she ran into him, bouncing off of his chest as she rocked backwards.

“Whoa!” He exclaimed, reaching out to steady her. He held her arms until she found her balance, ignoring the slight sparks under his palms from her silky smooth skin. “Easy, Brett. You okay?”

She blinked up at him, dazed, and he frowned, rubbing his hands up and down her arms briskly before letting his hands drop. “Sylvie?”

“Hm? Oh! Sorry Casey. Didn’t mean to mow you over,” she apologized in a rush, automatically running her gaze over his body and checking for injuries.

He hid a fond smile, knowing exactly what she was doing, and waited until her gaze lifted to his face before letting the smile bloom. “No harm done,” he said lightly. “You okay?”

She grimaced, crumpling the piece of paper in her hand before offering a patently fake bright smile. “Actually, I have kind of a weird favor to ask.” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them, and she instantly winced, shaking her head as she squeezed the paper even tighter, her knuckles turning white. “You know what? Never mind. Forget I said anything.” She swiveled on her heel, preparing to walk away.

_“Hold.”_

She automatically froze at the command, issued in that familiar hard, no nonsense tone, before whirling around to glare at him.

“I am not one of your firefighters to order around, Matthew Casey!”

His brows shot up in surprise at her uncharacteristically biting tone and response, especially when they both knew that while technically she was right, he was still the senior officer for second shift, ranking just below Chief Boden and thus well within his rights to order her around, firefighter or not. His forehead creased in concern as he studied her for a minute before replying.

“Technically not, but I’m not going to forget things now and just walk away either,” he said, still watching her carefully. “Something obviously has you riled up and upset, plus you just asked for my help, so either we can talk now,” he motioned back towards his quarters, “ or we can talk tomorrow morning after shift. Either way, it’s going to happen. You decide when.”

She huffed in exasperation as he offered a wry smile, softening the command and warning. “Considering the fact that there is very little that I can say no to when it comes to you, the answer to your favor is inevitably going to be yes, but I’d still like to know what I’m getting myself into beforehand.” His smile turned teasing with a hint of mischief. “The last time you asked me to do something ended up with you setting me up on the most awkward blind dates ever, so you’ll understand if I want some more information.”

Brett huffed again, trying to hold her glare and her mad, but couldn’t in the face of that grin. “Fine. Tomorrow then.” She conceded grudgingly. “But I will totally understand if you want actually want to say no after hearing the full story.”

Casey snorted, walking with her as she turned again to head to the common room. “Not going to happen,” he said confidently, bumping her companionably with his shoulder. “The rest of your remaining single friends outside of the firehouse are my friends too, so there’s no chance of another setup, and that might be the only thing I would pass on.”

“Olivia wasn’t that bad, Casey,” she scolded, relenting enough to smile reluctantly.

“No – she’s cute, and sweet – and very happy with my offer to set her up with my friend Jason.” He grinned proudly when she stopped to stare at him in surprise. “Kannell is the Lt. on Squad 3 here at 51 for first shift, and we grew up together. He’s a good guy.” He shrugged. “Olivia seems to think so too, because they’ve been together for nearly a year now.”

“Matt Casey the matchmaker.” She teased, her smile more genuine now as they detoured over to the coffee maker. “I knew she was dating someone but I didn’t know it was that Jason.”

Distracted, she finally set the papers down so she could pour herself a cup, only to protest when he took advantage of her lapse and immediately snatched it up.

“Casey! Give it back!”

“Not a chance,” he retorted, tucking it into his pants pocket.

Sylvie immediately backed off, scowling. “That’s dirty pool, Matthew Casey.”

He smirked, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. “Using my full name is not going to work, Sylvie,” he returned lazily. “I’m not going to read this until tomorrow, but I will be keeping it as extra insurance for our conversation.” He finished pouring his cup and walked away as she sputtered behind him.

***

_Matt Casey, what did you do to Brett? She’s in a MOOD! AGAIN!_

Casey snickered as he read Emily’s text later that afternoon.

Why do the women in my life think that using my full name somehow makes them more intimidating when they scold?

_Because situations like this demand a certain number of characters and syllables for extra emphasis,_ Matthew! _Now tell me before I sic Stella on you for upsetting Sylvie. I’ve never seen her like this._

**_I know as much as you do_** _,_ he replied. **_She came in this morning all riled up and upset. I may or may not have compounded on that when she asked me for a favor and then tried to immediately change her mind and deal with -whatever- alone._**

_She keeps muttering about stupidly charming, bossy jerk men -that would be you, btw- and something about Fowlerton, Hope, families, and really bad ideas._

Casey frowned, having a sudden sinking premonition. He hesitated, debating internally for a moment before pulling out the much abused paper ball and silently reading the contents.

“Son of a _bitch_ ,” he cursed.

**_Hope and the Chaplain are engaged. That little witch sent Sylvie an invite to the wedding AND a note asking her to be a bridesmaid!_ **He sent to Emily, seething. **_Do NOT tell Sylvie that I told you! Just let her vent and it’ll come out on its own._**

_That spiteful little conniving BITCH!_   
_Yeah, copy that. I’m on it. Will update you later. We’re on our way back from Med now._

Casey read the last text, turning the screen off so he could try to concentrate on paperwork. It was a valiant effort that lasted maybe all of two lines of chicken scratch before he crumpled it into a ball and tossed his pen down with a sigh, running his hand over his face in frustration.

He now understood Sylvie’s reaction a bit better, although he wished that she hadn’t tried to retract her impulsive request. He had thought that they were finally getting somewhere, slowly transitioning past the point of general friendship to being true confidantes and someone to turn to first and lean on for support and advice.

He wasn’t blind; he knew how big of a thing that it was that Sylvie had confided in him first about her birth mom, and also how significant it was to be the first of their friends to actually meet Julie in person. How she had immediately handed him her keys when Julie started experiencing false labor pains, trusting him to drive her car and taking it for granted that he would take care of them both.

Casey had made a conscious effort to return and build that trust and confidence, which was something that he hadn’t done or had the chance to in his past relationships. It was an unexpectedly freeing feeling, one he was quickly becoming addicted to; being able to lean on another person and share some of the emotional stress and burden that came with having to balance personal and professional friendships and relationships.

Usually Severride himself would have been the sounding board, but things had changed when Casey was promoted, and they both had learned the hard way that a certain level of distance and decorum had to be maintained in order for them to keep a working relationship and personal friendship – especially when they disagreed on a call and Casey had to pull rank.

It didn’t mean that he was going to stop including his friend and cohort and using him as a sounding board as needed, but having Sylvie to talk to was a definite relief, and he had assumed -hoped- that she felt the same way.

So then why had she been so reluctant to talk with him or ask her mysterious favor of him? Casey still didn’t quite understand-because surely she wasn’t actually thinking about going to this wedding, was she?- and he was starting to grow too impatient to wait until morning.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Casey's psuedo girlfriend/wing woman type person comes through for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, these two would be hopeless without Emily Foster LMAO...

As it turned out, Sylvie didn’t give him a choice otherwise, pointedly avoiding him for the rest of the entire shift and only responding with one or two word answers when he addressed her directly on calls or in the common room.

It was a silent treatment worthy of Severride at his most surly, Casey noted with resigned amusement. Not that he would tell either one of them that, out of self-preservation. Kidd might’ve found it funny, if she wasn’t stomping around in hangry solidarity with Chief Boden as they both endured the diet Donna had put him on. Foster went back and forth between exasperation, amusement, and sympathy whenever she looked at him, which made him wonder exactly what Sylvie had told her in the Ambo. Whatever it was, she had been sworn to secrecy since there had been no more promised updates or texts.

Casey was more than ready for shift to be over by the time 8am rolled around. He was up, showered, dressed in his street clothes and about to go track down a certain stubborn blonde paramedic to herd back to his quarters when there was a light knock on his door.

Sylvie offered him a fleeting smile as he opened it, gesturing for her to enter before shutting and locking the door behind her. He had already drawn the shades, as he always did for the two days that he was off duty. The officers for 1st and 3rd shift had their own quarters with their men in the bunkroom on the other side of the firehouse. 3rd shift was on duty, so there would be no accidental interruptions, but he was taking no chances.

He had made a tactical error though, forgetting how small and intimate his quarters could feel, especially when enclosed with a woman that he was highly attracted to. She must have just showered; he could smell the clean fresh scent of her favorite body wash and lotion, and her skin glowed under the glimmer of sunlight peeking through the blinds.

“So.” He began, choosing his desk chair as the safest spot where he wouldn’t tower over her. “Sylvie, talk to me.”

She sighed, perching gingerly at the foot of his bed and tucking one leg underneath her as she debated where to begin. “Did you look at the paper and invitation?” She finally asked tiredly.

He nodded reluctantly, pulling them out. “Yeah,” he admitted roughly, not mentioning that it had been last night and not that morning. “Damn, Sylvie, I’m so sorry. There aren’t enough words in the world to describe how this was absolutely fucking shit move to make.” He paused, studying her face as she avoided his gaze. “You’re not actually thinking about going, are you? Dammit Sylvie – you don’t owe Hope or the chaplain anything!”

She loved that he was so righteously indignant and protective on her behalf without even knowing the full story. “Easy Matt,” she soothed, as he stood up to pace. “I’m not going for them. I’m going for my parents, and Hope’s dad.”

He swung around to face her. “What? Why?” He demanded furiously.

She sighed again. “Part of it is this whole Julie thing. They know about her, and are absolutely supportive of my getting to know her, but I’ve been spending so much time with her lately that I’ve been neglecting everyone else. My parents, the others here at 51…you.” She offered a soft smile.

He didn’t immediately reply, too caught up by the fact that she had just essentially admitted that she missed spending time with him.

“My parents, my mom, they love me,” she continued quietly. “I know that. But when we were younger, Hope was…infectious. The social butterfly, bright light, always willing to play dress up or practice for upcoming pageants with my mom, while I…” she offered a wryly rueful smile. “I was a true country girl. Riding horses, driving the tractor, tagging along with my dad and brother out in the fields and in the barn.”

Casey smiled faintly, picturing a teenage Sylvie riding wild and fearless, just like she took on every other task set to her.

“Hope’s dad and my dad are best friends, so he became an honorary uncle. Uncle Brian is the reason why I became a paramedic. They don’t know the true story of why Hope left Chicago, and we played nice when I was back in Fowlerton. It would crush them to know the truth, Casey. Our moms have been planning our weddings since before we could walk.” She breathed out slowly. “Which is why I’m going to go and do this one last thing in honor of our childhood friendship and what we had, and then I’m done. For good.”

Casey grimaced, plopping down in his chair with a thump. “I can’t talk you out of it?”

“Nope.” She shook her head, watching him fondly. “It’s happening.”

He leaned back in his chair, turning the full penetrating weight of that intense blue gaze on her. “Then I’m coming with you.” He announced abruptly.

Her jaw dropped in surprise. How did he…?

“Did Foster text you?” She said suspiciously. “Because it’s fine, Casey. It was a stupid idea anyway, I don’t know why I was even considering it – “

“Sylvie!” he interrupted firmly, grabbing her hands. “No one texted me anything. I’m offering to go with you because no one should have to go into an awkward situation like that without someone to watch their back.” He sat back, releasing her, and she instantly missed his warmth and the feel of his skin against hers. “What was Foster not supposed to text me about?”

Crap. “It’s nothing—”

“Sylvie.” He warned, his eyes narrowing. “Just tell me, and let me decide for myself.”

She was going to kill her friend for even putting the idea in her head in the first place.

“I was already thinking about asking you to go as a friend, but then I told Emily all of this yesterday, and she said that I should ask you to come with me-as my fake fiancée or boyfriend,” she confessed in a rushed mumble, avoiding his gaze. “That way I could show both Hope and Kyle what asshats they were – her words, not mine – and still make my parents happy by letting them believe that I’m settling down finally and I will have someone to take care of me.” She winced, wrinkling her nose. “My dad had a heart attack a few months ago, so he’s really been on this kick to make sure that I’m taken care of, although he didn’t really seem to warm up to Kyle…” she trailed off, shaking her head.

He owed Emily Foster another twenty rounds and a HUGE raise at Molly’s, Casey decided with an inward smirk. She was officially the best fake girlfriend/wing woman _ever_.

“-And I know that the whole thing sounds like something out of a Hallmark rom com, but it wouldn’t be that much PDA – holding hands, maybe some pecks on the cheek or something.” She was still rambling. “I know Foster said that she kissed you at the bachelor’s auction just to piss off Gabby, but we’re not trying to make anyone mad, so – “

“Sylvie.” He smiled intently when she instantly shut up, her eyes wide. “I’ll do it.”

She did a double take, frowning. “Really?”

An opportunity to spend a week with this woman away from the nosey eyes and ears of their friends, _and_ he was essentially being given free rein to touch and kiss her however he wanted, all under the guise of being her fiancée?

Game. ON.

“Yes really,” he confirmed. “I already told you – there’s very little that you could do or say that would change how I feel about you…or make me say no to you.” He paused, deliberately letting that sink in, before he offered a wry grin. “You’re one of my best friends in this house, and you’re definitely prettier and easier to talk to than Severride, so that will never change. I’m pretty sure I can pretend to be your boyfriend-or whatever-for a few days well enough to convince your family.”

He met and held her gaze, letting her see a glimpse of the intensity of his feelings, before he blinked and the shutters came down as he stood up.

“Well, if you are truly determined to do this, then thank you Casey,” she said slowly, following his lead and standing up as well. “I have some errands and things to do today, but I’ll see you at Molly’s tonight? I should have some more details after I talk to my parents. We might even be able to cut our stay down to the weekend, so we’d miss one, maybe two shifts.”

“Actually, how about dinner at my place instead first, and then Molly’s tomorrow?” he countered. “You wanted to show me that episode of Property Brothers that reminded you of Julie’s house so I can figure out if I can copy what they did for the backyard. We can also work out some of the details and parameters before you call your parents to tell them that you’re bringing a friend. Get our cover story straight.” He offered an easy smile. “Emily has already forced me to marathon teen rom coms, but this sounds like a whole other level. I trust you to limit your torture to three movies, so choose wisely,” he teased.

That made her laugh. “I appreciate the sacrifice, Casey. I guess I will see you tonight at your place,” she agreed as he unlocked the door and gestured for her to proceed him out. “Chinese or pizza?”

“Sleep first, then food. And maybe ice cream if I really have to endure chick flick night. Might as well get something out of it.”

“Copy that,” she answered with a grin. “Text me later with a time?”

“Of course.” He walked her over to her car before heading to his truck. “See you tonight, Sylvie.”

***

Emily smothered her laughter as her phone blared two alerts; one was a text from Casey, and the other was Taylor Swift’s ‘Me!’, which she had set as Brett’s ringtone. She answered the phone, putting her friend on speaker as she quickly read Casey’s text.

“Hello?”

“Em, he actually agreed to do it!” Sylvie exclaimed, panic clear in her voice. “What the hell do I do now? I didn’t think that he would actually say yes!”

“Why not?” Emily retorted, still laughing. “He’s a red blooded, straight male, isn’t he? I told you he would say yes!”

“I know but he -I- arrgh!” There was a muffled thump and an abbreviated horn blast in the background. “We’re friends, Emily,” she finally said softly. “I don’t want to mess that up with him.”

“Sylvie, you can be more than friends and be coworkers too.” Her friend chastised gently. “Look at Severride and Kidd.”

“Yeah, but this is me and Casey that we’re talking about. Neither one of us has a good track record of dating friends. Him with Dawson. Me with Cruz, and then with Kyle. He broke up with me originally for a valid work related reason, Em. And that was just someone in the same department! I don’t want to ruin a fantastic friendship that I’m really starting to depend on for a relationship that may or may not last.”

Foster was silent for a long moment. “Then you need to tell Casey all of that, straight out,” she said finally. “He at least deserves to know your fears and thoughts far more than I do. And then, once everything it laid out on the table, you can go forward from there.”

She heard her friend’s soft sigh of agreement as her breath evened out.

“But Sylvie?” There was a hard note in Foster’s voice as it came over the speakers. “If Casey hears you out and he still wants to be with you, then you also owe it to the both of you to be open to that, too. Trust him, and your own instincts. Open heart, open mind, open body,” she paraphrased one of Olivia’s favorite quotes that she liked to start spin class with. “You don’t know your own limits until you push past them to the other side.”

Sylvie was silent for a long moment. “Copy that. When did you get so good at giving relationship advice?”

Emily laughed, slightly bitterly. “I’m better at fixing everyone else’s relationships than I am my own. Go get some sleep and talk to Casey, Sylvie. I’ll see you next shift.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Matt Casey: always the man with a plan...

By the time 6pm rolled around, Casey had regrouped, reassessed, and had the beginnings of an actual plan when it came to one Sylvie Brett. He had managed it _without_ consulting Emily too, which was a personal victory. She was just as much an adopted sibling as Severride in her own way now, but as much as he had appreciated the helping hands (nudges, shoves, whatever), whatever happened tonight was between him and Sylvie only. He would make up for it later by resuming his nights at Molly’s to keep Em company when she was working, get back to some of their old rhythms and familiarity, but that was for later.

The rapid fire knocking on his door made him grin, shaking his head fondly as he opened it and stepped out of the way to let Sylvie come charging in.

“Okay, so I was thinking, and while I appreciate that you are willing to come home with me and go through with this whole crazy plan, the wedding isn’t for a couple of months and you still have time to change your mind. I totally won’t hold it against you, Casey; you’ve been so incredible lately, with Julie, and the house, and everything, and I just don’t want to lose this really amazing friendship for a week of pretending over something as frivolous as Hope’s wedding.”

Casey waited a few more seconds after she had finished, breathing hard, before raising his brows in amused query. “You finished?”

She actually paused to consider his question, mentally going over all of her bullet points. “Yes.”

“Good. Now that you’ve got that out of your system and head, let me say this: I am not changing my mind, I’m going with you, and nothing that may happen during that trip or otherwise is going to change or ruin our friendship,” he said evenly. “No more arguments. That’s an order. Now c’mon; tell me how many pancakes you want.”

She stared after him as he walked away to the kitchen island, his socks white and gleaming against the dark wood floors. She followed him slowly, watching as he pulled ingredients and mixing bowls out and set them on the counter.

“Still not one of your firefighters to command, Matthew Casey,” she replied finally. “And I thought we were ordering in?”

He flashed a grin at her over his shoulder as he turned back from the fridge and began efficiently mixing the batter. “No you’re not, but it’s still an effective way to get you to listen,” he replied. “So as Foster would say, ‘sorry not sorry’.” His grin widened as she rolled her eyes. “And we are having breakfast for dinner because I wanted blueberry pancakes and can’t cook for less than a dozen people, so you have been volunteered as tribute to help me eat them.” He paused to test the griddle, nodding in satisfaction, before adding, “And this way you can’t go all modern woman on me and try to sneak the bill to pay for whatever we might have ordered in,” just to see her sputter at him some more.

“That’s not very 2020 of you, Matt.” She mock scolded, but her eyes were sparkling now, and she had relaxed enough to sit at the counter and watch him work. Plus, she was back to using his first name, which made things a bit more personal and intimate, rather than the semi-formal work capacity that using his last name or rank, even affectionately, put on the conversation. He had noticed that she was using his first name more and more, on and off shift, and was really enjoying the way it rolled off of her lips. Since he had no intention of even mentioning anything work related, he hoped it was going to become the norm for the night.

“Blueberry pancakes, huh? Bacon and coffee too?”

“Of course.” He scoffed. “None of that vegetarian see through crap that Gallo did yesterday either.”

That made her laugh. “I think he and Ritter are doing that just to tease Herrmann and Mouch, after the whole diet fiasco with Kidd and the Chief. They only actually cooked a couple of pieces.”

Casey flashed her another grin. “Yeah, but I saw Tony take them along with some regular sausage when he thought no one was looking. His wife is badgering him into another diet, ironically enough, I think.”

“Wait – how did I not know that Tony is married?” She exclaimed. Caught up by the unexpected juicy bit of gossip, she moved to the closer chair so they could talk more easily. “What other gossip have you been holding out on me, Matt Casey?”

That grin flashed again. “I’ve worked at 51 for nearly a decade. I’ve got pictures too.”

She reached out to snag a blueberry from the bowl, laughing when he swatted her fingers away. “So, what do you want in return for showing me those pictures?”

He snorted. “Besides a signed and sworn document in blood that you won’t immediately spill to Kidd and Foster? Snitches get stitches, Sylvie.” He raised his brows. “Whatcha got?”

She wrinkled her nose, thinking, while he tested the griddle again. Satisfied, he poured a series of nearly perfect batter circles carefully onto the griddle, watching as they spread out and began to bubble.

Distracted, Sylvie eyed the number of pancakes dubiously. “You weren’t kidding about not being able to cook for less than a dozen people, were you?”

He shrugged. “Or Kidd and Severride when they needed that extra energy boost after a hard rough night.”

She nearly choked on the second blueberry that she had sneaked when he wasn’t looking. “Matt!” She scolded over his laughter. “Ugh, I did not need to know that, ever,” she complained, sticking her fingers in her ears and poking her tongue out at him as he chortled. “That was just rude!” She grabbed a couple of the blueberries and tossed them at him.

Casey caught one and adroitly dodged the other, still snickering. “Okay, okay! Sorry. Sheesh. Cease fire.”

She complied, mainly because dinner was ready and smelled heavenly. He put everything on general platters, buffet style, and they piled their plates up with the single-minded focus that came with eating on the run when and where they could on the job.

Sylvie took an eager bite of her pancakes and moaned blissfully low in her throat. “Oh my god Matt, these are incredible!” She exclaimed, not noticing the way that his head shot up and his gaze sharpened on her. “How do you not have breakfast duty every shift?”

He managed a distracted smile, still replaying that moan over in his head. Fuuuck. He was so screwed over this woman.

“Perks of being an officer,” he replied lightly. “I only cook when I want to now.”

She nodded, nibbling on a piece of bacon. “Makes sense. I like cooking, but my brief foray into creating a menu for a bunch of people ended with Molly’s II. The second Mouch said ‘what’s for dinner’ in that expectant tone, I was so done.” She took another bite, her teeth crunching down on the meat with a decisive crack. “I got my fill of that with Harrison.” She frowned slightly. “Kyle too, actually. Well, the potential to fall back down that rabbit hole, anyway. Straight into Pleasantville.”

Casey was silent, eyeing her slightly mutinous expression as he ate quietly. His voice was carefully neutral and deliberately casual when he finally spoke. “Harrison is the guy who sent you running for Chicago originally, right?”

She grimaced. “Yes. Best decision that I ever made.” She replied with a resolute nod. “Why?”

He shrugged. “He went back to Fowlerton, didn’t he? Just wondering if we’ll run into him or any of your other exes when we’re there.”

He was shamelessly fishing and he knew it, but he couldn’t help his curiosity -or the wave of jealousy that still ran through him at any mention of her past relationships, especially with the chaplain. Kyle. Whatever.

Emily was the one who had finally called him out on how he had never referred to the other man by his first name, only his title. Casey had protested that it was a sign of respect, since he had done the same thing with Chaplain Orlinsky.

“Mmm. Okay.” She had nodded. “So, Casey. What’s Kyle’s last name? Since it’s merely a sign of respect.”

His mind had blanked, making her laugh hysterically. “Yep. Respect, not jealousy. Whatever you say.”

He still didn’t know the chaplain’s last name, and quite frankly at this point didn’t give a damn. The man had been stupid enough to let Sylvie walk away, not once but twice, so he deserved whatever he was getting with Hope instead.

“Kyle, obviously.” She mused, answering his earlier question. “Harrison too, more than likely, because he is spiteful enough to have bought the house I wanted and moved in with his new family.” She wrinkled her nose. “Those are the only ones that stayed that I know of. Everyone else took off as soon as they graduated and didn’t look back.”

They finished eating in silence. When they were done, Sylvie groaned again, leaning back and stretching nearly backwards over her chair before slumping theatrically. “That was absolutely decadent, Matt. I’m probably going to have to do an extra spin class with Foster to burn it off, but it was totally worth it.”

Casey snorted, taking their plates to the sink. “Speaking as your friend and as a man, you can more than afford to indulge every once in a while, Sylvie.”

Her eyes widened slightly at his offhand compliment and comment. “Charmer,” she chided, fighting a blush and hoping he would let it go, but no such luck.

“I’m serious.” He insisted, coming back to sit next to her. “And you’re horrible at taking a compliment.”

Her jaw dropped, and she shoved him lightly away. “I am not!”

“Sylvie. Come on.” The look he sent her was more than enough to express his skepticism. “You are absolutely terrible at accepting any type of compliment, especially when it comes from a man.” He stated bluntly. “My sister Christine was the same way after her divorce from her douche bag of an ex. Which means, Sylvie Brett, that too many of your exes didn’t compliment you as they should have.” He frowned and started to stand. “Do I need to go have a talk with Cruz? Chloe needs to know the truth.”

“Matt, stop!” She laughed, grabbing his arm and pulling him back into his seat. “Cruz was an absolute gentleman the entire time we were dating. And he adores Chloe more than he ever did me, so she knows exactly how good she has it.” She blew out an exasperated breath when he settled back and waited expectantly. “You really want to hear about my failed love life? It’s not a pretty, fun story for a Friday night in.”

“We’ve got the whole night, and it’s been puzzling me for a while,” he admitted, standing up as she stared after him in surprise. “You’ve let me use you as a sounding board too many times to count, Sylvie. Maybe I can give you a different perspective. Besides,” he offered a half grin. “A wise and beautiful woman once advised me that its better and healthier to talk to someone rather than suffer alone.”

She narrowed her eyes as he quoted her own advice back at her. “I didn’t think you remembered. It was two years ago.”

“I was shot at, point blank,” he returned wryly. “Not something you ever completely forget. But you’re the one who convinced me to talk to someone and share the burden, so let me do the same thing now.”

She studied him for a long moment, her gaze shadowed and unreadable. “I’m gonna need something stronger than mere coffee to talk about this.”

He grinned at her tacit agreement and went over to the cabinets, stretching up on his toes to reach in the back and pull out a wine bottle. “Perks of being one of the silent partners – and living across the hall from one of the bartenders,” he teased, showing her the label of her favorite rosé wine. “Just don’t tell Herrmann.”

“Stella’s been holding out on me,” she grumbled, accepting the bottle and a glass as he poured himself some whiskey before gesturing to the couch.

“C’mon.”

Sylvie groaned inwardly. She should’ve really known better than to call this man’s bluff, especially when he had issued the challenge in the first place. Most men would’ve let their impending conversation slide, or not have brought it up in the first place, but not Matt Casey. “Why are you suddenly so interested?” She frowned, reluctantly following him.

He settled into the cushions, stretching one arm out along the back as he regarded her, turning different answers over in his mind. “Call it personal curiosity and general research for the betterment of men everywhere,” he finally replied lightly. “Because clearly your exes were all idiots, but someone should benefit and learn from their mistakes.”

“Fine.” She relented finally, too curious to see where he was going with this to deny him. “But turnabout is fair play, Casey.” She pointed an admonishing finger at him before taking a gulp of her wine. “I want at least four stories from your days at Academy or when you first started at 51, plus something embarrassing to hold over Severride for the next time he’s feeling extra annoying and big brotherly.”

He laughed. “That’s a bad deal. I would’ve given you that anyway,” he teased.

“Okay fine. Four stories about you, personally, Matt Casey – and do not try to swindle and distract me with the antics of a younger Mouch and Herrmann! – and one story about Severride. All with pictures.”

He was lucky that he had shoved all of his old stuff – anything that reminded him of Andy, Hallie, or relating to his mom or childhood – into a storage unit not long after he and Dawson had gotten together, in an effort to truly focus on the future, especially after his apartment had gone up in flames almost as spectacularly as their relationship eventually had. Shoving that thought away, he offered a smile and his glass to Sylvie for her to clink. “Deal.”

She did so, taking one more fortifying gulp before settling into the couch and slipping her shoes off, tucking her feet under her. A summer storm raged outside, rain battering against the windows, making the moment intimate and cozy.

“It’s not that I can’t take a compliment,” she began slowly, feeling out the words. “I think it’s more that I don’t always trust the sincerity or intent behind them.” She paused, debating, before inwardly shrugging. “I know what I look like. I’m not…completely unaware of the appeal,” she continued wryly. “But when that’s all people – men – see, it makes even a girl like me a bit jaded.” She stared into her glass for a moment before resolutely setting it down. “It’s funny though. Every guy that I’ve been with has said that he liked and wanted me for who I am, that my independence and determination and drive only added to the appeal. Yet every single one of them only complimented the physical, and tried to push me into being something that I’m not.” She looked up at Casey for the first time. “Except you.” You always praise the work I do, the decisions that I’ve had to make, and the people that I’ve saved.” Cocking her head, she caught and held his gaze for a moment, a puzzled frown in her eyes. “Until recently. If I act like I can’t take a compliment, Casey, it’s not because I’m not appreciative. I just don’t quite know how to respond to you anymore.”

She stopped, a bit shocked by her own audacity. This was the closest either one of them had gotten to acknowledging the shift in their relationship and how they were with each other.

She leaped up when he didn’t immediately respond, needing the movement. “I’m sorry if this makes things weird, but I –“

Large hands caught her by the waist before she could go more than a step. Her hands flew up to his shoulders as he turned her back to face him, but it wasn’t enough to stop her momentum as she fell into him in full body, chest to chest, toe to toe contact. An instinctive shiver vibrated through her body under his hands, making him inhale sharply as her nipples hardened against his chest. She stared up at him with wide blue eyes, nibbling nervously on her bottom lip.

His intense gaze dropped down to her mouth to watch, before he slowly brought his hand up to cup her jaw, swiping his thumb over her lip to release the plump flesh trapped by her teeth and deliberately lowering his head to cover her mouth with his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t kill me! It’s hard writing and editing for yourself! Next chapter will be up by tonight!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Casey makes his case. (heh)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay here we go - the new and improved (and much more explicit) chapter 19! As I mentioned in my AN, we're going in a different direction than I originally anticipated, BUT I have most of the rest of the story written now, so I'm back in a groove.
> 
> Warning: this chapter does earn the new rating move up from Mature to Explicit, so if that's not to your taste, um...sorry? I blame Casey.

Kissing Sylvie was an experience unlike Casey had ever had before. He could only compare it to diving into a pool of clear, crisp water. Everything was instantly muted, the chaos in the world and in his head muted. There was just her.

Unable to resist, he surged back in for a deeper taste, his hands moving to tangle in her hair as she clutched his shoulders. She made a soft sound of surprise in her throat before she melted under him, eyes fluttering shut. She tasted like blueberries and wine, tart and sweet just like the woman herself, and he was instantly addicted. It took everything in him to pull away, just enough to rest his forehead against hers and allow them both to breathe, closing his eyes.

When he opened them it was to meet her sparkling gaze, warm and wry and mixed with a touch of amusement.

“This may sound a bit hinky, coming from me,” she murmured. “But don’t over think it, Matt.”

His lips curved against hers. “Works for me.”

He took her mouth with a bit more heat this time, licking and nibbling teasingly at her lips until she opened for him, before delving inside, turning and moving her head as he throughly tasted every inch of her mouth. His hands dropped to the hem of her t-shirt and slipped under to the warm silky skin of her back, stroking up and then back down to bracket her waist as he slowly backed her up to the wall in the hallway leading to his bedroom, surprising the breath out of her into another muffled moan.

She tore her mouth away with a gasp, panting for breath as he immediately took advantage to slide his mouth down her throat, sucking hard at her pulse beating beneath her skin at the base, before licking his way back up to her earlobe as his hands roamed over her ribs and flat stomach. When he pulled away again her eyes remained closed, allowing him to drink her in with a touch of awe and no little satisfaction, flushed with a light sheen of sweat and arousal, her lips rosy and swollen.

He had spent hours observing this woman without her – or anyone else, surprisingly- noticing, so he had seen the flash of doubt on her face before she raised that stubborn chin of hers and told him -and herself- not to over think things. Them. This moment.

But he also liked to think that he had started to get a feel for how Sylvie’s mind worked, which meant that her advice was only going to have the opposite effect at some point.

Casey considered her thoughtfully for a moment longer, his eyes narrowed. “If we do this, there’s no going back.”

It was both warning and a promise. He knew that he was already in deep with this woman, knew that even if she walked away now that he would still need her in his life however she allowed it. Once he got her into his bed though, he would do absolutely everything in his power to keep her.

That got her attention enough to open her eyes to meet his heated sapphire gaze. To her credit, she didn’t immediately mumble consent and try to dive back into kissing him, thus ignoring the magnitude of the moment.

They were standing on a precipice, she realized slowly as her breathing evened out. And he was leaving the choice to jump or to step back from the edge solely in her hands.

The logical, level headed, slightly cynical part of her was screaming at her to _Abort! Step back from the edge!_ Being with a man like him – passionate, stubborn, frustratingly traditional in some ways, fiercely protective and possessive – would not be easy, especially since some of those qualities came from the job and just enhanced what was already at the core of the man himself.

She had seen him fight against his natural instincts to protect in order to give Gabby the freedom and independence she craved, and it had nearly broken him. She had escaped to Chicago twice already because she couldn’t stand the idea of trying to fit into a man’s preconceived notion of her role in his life. Could he control those natural dominant qualities again without sacrificing the core of who he was? Could she handle his level of intensity and focus while still retaining her individuality?

On the other hand, could she walk away from him without finding out?

Her lips firmed slightly as she splayed a hand over his heart and pushed lightly. Disappointment and hurt flashed across his face before he locked his jaw and stepped back, just enough for her to slip out between him and the wall. Her hand slid down his chest, feeling hard muscles flex and bunch under her palm. He automatically turned with her as she snagged a finger in one of the belt loops of his jeans and kept walking, tugging him along for a step or two before letting go and throwing a teasingly coquettish look over her shoulder, lifting her chin slightly.

“Actions speak louder than words, Casey.”

He blinked, his jaw dropping slightly as she sauntered away towards his room. Did sweet, wide eyed, innocent Sylvie Brett just deliberately _challenge_ him?

She squealed with laughter as he stepped, ducked, and flipped her up over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, much like Cruz had done to Chloe on their move in day.

Kicking his door shut behind him, Casey tossed her onto his bed, following her down and immediately reclaiming her mouth and tasting the giggles that still bubbled out of her. Those giggles quickly turned to a symphony of breathy little sighs and moans that he was quickly becoming addicted to coaxing from her throat.

She had expected him to overwhelm and devour. Instead, he kept things lazy and slow. Long, dragging, explicit exchanges of lips and tongues and teeth, all slow sensuality and heated seduction. She couldn’t remember the last time that she had indulged in just kissing, reveling in the steamy intimacy that rose up between them, but she could quickly become addicted to it with Casey.

She wasn’t a passive participant either, sending eager hands down to undo his jeans and zipper before he distracted her again, pulling away just enough to allow them both to breathe and losing his shirt before divesting her of her t-shirt as well, pushing the lightweight cotton material up towards her wrists as he stretched her arms high above her head.

“Matt,” she protested breathlessly, squirming and twisting under him as she tried to release her hands from the makeshift cuffs that he had turned her t-shirt into. “Let me go.”

He ignored her to send his mouth and hands in opposite directions; up, up, up, licking a hot strip to her earlobe, and down, down, down, over her breasts and stomach to the hem of her jean skirt that she had worn in deference to the warm July Chicago nights, slowly pushing the material up to her waist.

Lifting his head to survey his handiwork, he pretended to consider her request, his eyes glinting with male satisfaction and mischief. “Mmm...no,” he mused, now running his fingertips lightly along her cleavage and enjoying the shiver that vibrated through her at his touch as she sucked in a sharp breath and arched instinctively into him. “Keep your hands up there, or I stop,” he warned.

“Why won’t you let me touch you?” She demanded breathlessly, even as she followed his command. He leaned up to kiss her as a reward, and she responded eagerly, moaning a protest when he moved away.

“Just evening the odds,” he answered cryptically. He stretched out next to her on his side, using one hard thigh to pin her legs down as she squirmed again, her hips rolling, seeking another brush of his cock, still hard in his jeans. He gritted his teeth, fighting for control as he denied her more movement. “Fuck, Sylvie. Look at you, pretty in pink, all wrapped up like a present just for me.”

Sylvie’s eyes fluttered shut as that long finger dipped teasingly into first one cup of the dusky rose lingerie and then the other, sensation zipping through her straight to her clit as he just barely brushed each nipple and drawing another moan from her throat.

Casey groaned low in approval. “That was a fun reaction,” he murmured, moving to the front clasp holding the garment shut as he leaned over her. “I think we can do better than that though.”

Pushing the material aside, he opened his mouth wide to take as much of her breast as he could, curling his tongue around her nipple before sucking hard as she let out a surprised scream, a long hard tremor vibrating through her.

“Oh my god, Matt!”

“Fuuck, you’re gorgeous,” he groaned, watching her through a heavy lidded gaze as she flushed with the pleasure of her unexpected orgasm, her eyes nearly rolling into back into her head before she slumped, breathing hard.

He breathed in through his nose, inhaling the sweet intoxicating scent of aroused woman and cherry blossoms as he brought his other hand up to play, cupping and squeezing and massaging the plump flesh, pressing down firmly on her nipple as he licked lazily at the other one before switching. “Open your eyes, Sylvie,” he called, waiting until her hazy cornflower blue gaze focused on him. “There you are,” he murmured, raking his teeth over her skin. “How’re you doing, Sunshine? Still with me?”

She licked her lips, taking a few deep breaths as she tried to string words together long enough to reply. “It’s rude to gloat, Matt,” she managed.

He grinned at her disgruntled reply. “So much for not over thinking. Guess I’m going to have to try harder,” he said, so cheerfully smug that she would’ve smacked him -and then kissed him- if she had the energy.

She let her head flop back down into the pillows as he licked and kissed his way down her stomach, tongue dipping teasingly into her bellybutton, only to try to jack knife back up as she realized what his intention and destination was.

“Matt,” she started nervously, sucking in a breath as he slowly, deliberately, hooked his fingers into each side of her panties and drew them down, down, down her legs and tossing them somewhere over his shoulder. He also removed his jeans but not his boxer briefs, much to her disappointment. Coming back to her, he pushed her legs up and open, his broad shoulders settling in between. “You don’t have to do that.”

He ran two fingers lightly over her, brushing her clit and making her jerk, before swiping them through her slit and sucking them into his mouth, groaning at the taste. “Damn baby, you’re already so soaked.”

“I mean, I’ve never- no one has ever-“

His head shot up to stare at her. “Seriously? Not even Antonio?”

She shook her head, her hair falling over her face. “Always on a..time restraint,” she managed as he repeated the motion, sending sensation zinging through her.

“Whole damn family always was impatient,” Casey muttered, shaking his head. How Antonio had succumbed to drugs when he could’ve committed to becoming addicted to Sylvie’s exquisite little body, he would never understand. “You ready, Sunshine?” He raised his voice, deliberately waiting until she was focused on him before letting his mouth hover over her pussy, bare and flushed and mouthwateringly gorgeous. “Fuck, you’re glorious.” He blew a light stream of air directly over her clit. “Look at you, already shaking and trembling again.” And strung tight with tensed anticipation, of pleasure or pain, he wasn’t sure that she knew. And that didn’t work for him. At all.

“You know,” he said conversationally, backing off slightly. “You’re the one who said to not over think things, but if there’s one thing that I have learned about you, Sylvie Brett, is that beautiful mind of yours never really turns off.”

She was going to kill him. Stella and Emily would help her, she was positive, especially after she told them why. She bet that Maggie and April would help too, maybe let her send his body directly to the morgue in female solidarity.

It took a minute for her to refocus on him enough to respond. “Matthew Casey, I swear to God –“

“Just checking to see if you were still with me. You can yell at me in a minute or two, but let’s see if I can scramble that brain of yours again first.”

“That was so _not_ a challenge, Matt-“ She broke off into a scream as he sent his tongue delving deep into her, seeking and stroking as his thumb found her clit and pressed hard. His mouth became ravenous as he felt her clench and spasm around his tongue, groaning deep in his throat, the sound vibrating through her.

Sylvie was drowning in pleasure, her body rippling through an orgasm that detonated her mind and took her breath, until all she could do was ride it out, gasping and pleading and moaning. He pushed two fingers into her before it faded completely, finding and rubbing her G-spot as his moved his mouth to her clit and sucked hard, sending her immediately up and over again. He waited until the worse of the tremors had faded before slowly removing his fingers, sending a couple of aftershocks shuddering through her.

After a moment she felt him leave the bed, returning with a warm damp cloth that he used to gently clean her, before untying the t-shirt from her wrists. Sylvie wanted to help, respond, do something to reciprocate, but she was too exhausted to do more than lie there as he pulled one of his t-shirts over her head and tugged it down her body, before maneuvering the bedspread out from under her off the bed and pulling the clean dry sheets and light blanket underneath up over them instead.

He finally settled back with a sigh and she roused up enough energy to wiggle and scoot until she was curled into him, one hand resting over his heart.

“I really did have more to say before you distracted me,” Casey mumbled. “Whole speech prepared. Lots of banter. Was gonna be epic.”

She opened one eye long enough to glare blearily at him. “Still rude. I’ll yell tomorrow. G’to sleep, Matt.”

Amused despite the arousal still leaving him hard and aching, he obediently closed his eyes, listening to her soft breath even out into true sleep. He was content to drift, body and mind relatively at peace for probably the first time in two years.

It was always a unique experience, sharing a bed with a woman for the first time instead of sleeping alone. All of his relationships – Hallie, Gabby, even Beth during the 48 hours he had spent in her bed – had different quirks and habits that they had brought with them from day 1.

Hallie had been a blanket stealer. Their work schedules had often put them on opposite ends of the day, where she was coming in as he was going on shift, and vice versa. For that reason, they had gotten used to sleeping separate but together, each with their own set of blankets so as not to disturb their partner during the couple of hours that they got to spend in bed together. Yet somehow, his blankets had always ended up piled over her, until she was so tangled and wrapped up that all he could see was her nose. He was a light sleeper and radiated body heat anyway, so he had just sighed and kissed her nose and gone on his way. By the time he got home the bed would be made properly, his side and hers, but by morning the pattern would repeat again.

Gabby – and Beth, ironically – preferred sleeping separate, often ending up on their side with their backs to him, silently rebuffing any attempt to cuddle or initiate any morning fun. Even when they had been dating, Gabby had often preferred to return to her own bed and apartment, and after Louie had come into -her- their lives, she had spent many nights curled up in his race car bed with him, soothing him out of another night terror. Not that Casey had minded, because Louie had needed her more than he had, but he had occasionally missed just the presence of another warm body. Of not feeling alone.

There was definitely no room for that with Sylvie. She was currently draped over him, one silky thigh thrown carelessly over his hip, her legs tangled with his, the rest of her body a warm weight along his side. She had somehow managed to tuck her head into the crook of his neck, her soft breaths ghosting over his skin and sending little zings of sensation skittering down his spine.

Part of him wanted to kiss her awake, watch her move from dreamscape to flushed arousal and dazed pleasure once more, but he held back, content – for now – to let her sleep.

He had pushed her hard earlier, he knew; physically and emotionally stripping her of her walls and shields. No one liked feeling that exposed and vulnerable in the aftermath, so she would be scrambling to put some of those walls back up come morning.

Casey sighed, pressing his lips into her hair and breathing in the scent of cherry blossoms. It was a strange and freeing emotion, accepting and acknowledging his feelings for her first. He didn’t love her, he mused, at least not yet or not completely enough to voice it out loud, but he was fully committed to exploring the potential of things developing into more between them.

He wasn’t going to blindly bulldoze ahead though. Not this time. Enjoy the journey and savor the scenic route, but always at Sylvie’s side. Giving – investing – however much she decided to give him in equal measure, and protecting them both from being hurt. No racing along, fueled by adrenaline from sneaking around and the giddiness of illicit trysts in the showers and making out in his truck before shift, yet being unable to sustain a conversation that didn’t end in manipulation or lying or yelling.

Hollywood’s bread and butter was the romance and first bloom of relationships, leading right up to the fairytale wedding and the fade to black happily ever after. But they never showed what happened _after_ the happy ending, the moments when the characters finally realize that great sex and general compatibility aside, they don’t really know jack about each other. Even after seven years of a relationship.

And holy hell, why was he going down some morose and introspective paths when he had a gorgeous and semi naked blonde snuggled up next to him? Shoving those dark thoughts away back to the past where they belonged, Casey refocused as Sylvie moved restlessly in her sleep, waiting until she settled down before closing his eyes again as well and letting sleep finally claim him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in editing all of this I somehow deleted chapters AND the author's note! The shorthand, updated version is that I am anemic but getting it back under control, and that (as you can see) things have gone in a rather different direction. Good news is that I'm back into a writing groove and have most of the rest of the story done, so this should be the last major delay.
> 
> Next chapter due this week!


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after, Severride has no concept of what 'for emergencies only' means, and he does a really bad job of defending Casey's honor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please go back and read 19 (and 18, if you are confused)! The AN's from the last chapter will explain everything

“Casey! You awake?”

Severride’s voice carried clearly through the apartment. Waking with a jerk, Sylvie groaned. “Why do I hear Severride yelling at,” she lifted her head just long enough to peer blearily at the clock, “fuck my life, it’s my day off ‘o clock in the morning?”

His shoulders shook with laughter as he wisely decided to refrain from commenting on her language as she buried her face back into him. “Because I gave him a key, and for a firefighter he has absolutely no concept of what ‘for emergencies only’ means,” He admitted, looking down at the top of her head expectantly when she didn’t move. “Sunshine, I can’t go get rid of him until you let go.” He felt her shake her head and squeeze tighter. “If I don’t go out there, he will come in here,” he added, because Severride was just enough of an ass to actually do that, especially if he assumed that Casey was alone.

It was all Andy’s fault, really; he had somehow talked Casey into splitting an apartment with him and Severride during Academy. The tiny three bedroom that they could afford on a rookie salary meant that personal space quickly became non existent, and they often had to resort to more drastic measures to haul their asses out of bed once the more physical classes and training started to take their toll. It had been years since Casey had actually needed that type of ‘helpful’ encouragement to get up, and Severride had backed off a lot since Darden’s death, but old habits die hard, and he had regressed a lot since Dawson had left.

Sylvie groaned into his shoulder, the sound vibrating through him, before hauling herself up and throwing the covers back. “Fine,” she grumped, as he scrambled to join her. “You stay here. I’m going to go deal with my self inflicted big brother.”

“Do you really think that’s – okay,” he quickly backtracked as she glared, holding out a hastily grabbed pair of his boxers and his hoodie in appeasement. “Go get ‘em, tiger.” He watched silently as she pulled on his clothes and stomped out of the room before hastily pulling on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, following at a more leisurely pace to listen just out of sight. No point in rescuing Severride right away, yet he still had a front row seat to the morning’s unexpected entertainment.

Severride was searching the cabinets, muttering to himself as Sylvie walked into the kitchen.

“Coffee is in the top drawer below the coffeemaker; filters are in the second drawer,” she yawned. “Why exactly are you raiding my coffee stash and interrupting my beauty sleep, anyway? Not that I need it, but you look like you could use a few power naps still. You forget which apartment you live in, Severride?”

He shot her a grin, unfazed by her teasing. “Nah,” he replied, starting a pot as she padded around to sit at the counter across from him, still tousled and sleepy. “Casey and I are supposed to meet Boden later to go fishing, and we usually do a fry up beforehand.” His eyes crinkled with mischief. “You guys have a better kitchen though, and this way I don’t have to be stuck with a sink full of dirty dishes.”

“Oh thanks,” she snorted. “All that, plus the dubious pleasure of your sparkling company so early. Lucky me.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to be here. Last I heard, you were still holding out…until after the wedding,” he returned, frowning as he took in her rumpled appearance and attire fully for the first time. A smirk slowly dawned as his eyes lit up with glee. “Unless Casey finally convinced you otherwise. I know you’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

“We were up late. Talking,” she clarified primly, as Casey winced in the hallway, shaking his head at the weak explanation.

“Sure, Brett. Talking.” Severride nodded sagely as the coffeemaker beeped. “Because all the best conversations result in stubble burn on your neck, and I’m sure in some other interesting places.” His delighted laughter filled the kitchen as she automatically clapped a hand on her neck, her eyes widening in horror. “Must have been a very through and interactive conversation.”

“Shut up!” she groaned, shoving him away as he chortled. “Do not tell Stella yet! I will never hear the end of it if she finds out that you knew before she did.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” he promised solemnly, putting a hand over his heart. His eyes still danced merrily as Casey finally made his presence known, detouring to the oven to start the warmer where the leftover pancakes were stored and checking the status on the coffeemaker before rounding the counter to slug his friend on the arm in greeting and dropping a kiss on top of Sylvie’s head before claiming the third stool. “I’m actually really happy for you both, although it took you long enough, and it puts me in a terrible position,” Severride continued, noting the easy body language between them and the way she automatically leaned against his friend with silent approval.

“Or, I’m a genius and this was my plan all along,” Casey replied offhandedly, as they both turned to stare at him. He shrugged as the coffeemaker beeped, hiding his grin as he gently urged Sylvie upright and went to retrieve three mugs. He pretended to focus on the task as they continued to stare at him. “Or, he mused, never looking up. “Sylvie is the actual evil genius mastermind, although one of your minions wasn’t exactly subtle despite going through a middle man,” his lips quirked as Severride snorted. “And the other one has split loyalties and has been playing both sides towards the middle, for the record.” His gaze was bright with mischievous laughter as he met Sylvie’s dumbfounded expression for a moment before switching to smirk at Severride, raising his brows in silent challenge.

Sylvie’s giggles broke the silent stand off as she threw her head back and laughed until she cried. Casey continued calmly fixing the coffee, sliding the first mug down to his friend before carefully carrying the other two over to his seat and setting one down in front of his still snickering girlfriend.

The better answer was probably a combined group effort, though he wasn’t about to tell them that. Nearly everything major that had happened – their moving together, his little showdown with the social worker at Molly’s and Sylvie reluctantly asking him to go with her to Hope’s wedding – had Emily Foster’s and Stella Kidd’s (secondhand) fingerprints all over it. The past few hours though – his little declaration at the beginning of the evening, getting her to open up about her exes – those had been deliberate moves on his part, with the intention of getting her to open up more about topics that were more personally and directly intimate to her rather than peripheral, like Julie was. He had hoped that doing so would shift her awareness of him into something more physical as well, but he had never dared to hope for anything that had happened after he had kissed her for the first time.

“So I take it that you haven’t seen Boden’s text since you’re still gracing us with your presence?” he said wryly, changing the subject. “Terrence has an ear infection, so Chief is staying home to give Donna a break. We can still take the boat out, as long as we bring it back in the same condition it left the docks in.”

Severride immediately scowled. “That was one time!”

Sylvie rolled her eyes as Casey snickered into his coffee cup. “Boys,” she warned, in that tone perfected by women around the world when dealing with an obnoxious sibling or exasperating spouse. They exchanged a look over her head as her eyes widened. These two working in tandem off shift always spelled trouble. And now she was dating one, and the other one had long ago declared himself as her honorary older brother. “Why would Casey and I getting together put you in a bad spot?” She asked, desperately trying to distract them from whatever mischief they were now plotting.

They knew perfectly well what she was doing but let her get away with it. Casey got up to check on the pancakes as Severride turned his attention back to her, his face still lit with mischief.

“Well, I’ve got a bit of a decision to make now,” he said innocently. “On the one hand, Casey is my annoying little –“

“-Younger.”

“-brother and I’m obviously not getting rid of him, not matter how hard he himself tries sometimes,” Severride continued pointedly with a glare as Casey flipped him off from behind Sylvie’s back. “Which means that technically I should be giving you the whole big brother spiel, if you hurt him I hurt you, insert threats here.”

“That’s telling her, Sev,” Casey said dryly as she giggled. “I’m feeling the brotherly love.”

“However,” Severride continued, ignoring the commentary. “You adopted me as an honorary older brother –“

“Actually, I’m pretty sure that _you_ coerced me into reluctantly accepting the inevitable,” she countered dryly.

“-either way, I take my responsibilities seriously, and therefore should inform you, Case, that if you do, say, or think anything stupid to mess this up then I have absolutely no problems knocking some sense back into you – and then turning Stella and Emily loose as well.”

Casey winced. “Copy that.”

Both men knew that Severride was more joking than serious, but the underlying threat – and promise – was there. Considering their turbulent histories with women and relationships, they both knew that Casey was much more likely to do something stupid to self-destruct than Brett would be. Experience had taught them to be wary of something good happening for too long without some kind of fall out, and nerves strung tight waiting usually resulted in defensive reactions and self-fulfilling prophecy. Severride had a feeling that Brett was just as stubborn as Stella had been and would have no problems with dealing with Casey herself if anything did happen, but he would still make a point to keep an eye on things and try to protect both of his friends from themselves as needed.

“There’s one major factor that you haven’t considered though,” Brett told him. “And it should help with your dilemma.” Her shoulders shook with laughter. “Emily and Stella are much more inventive and creative with their threats than you are, and Emily already big brother’d you about Stella once. You really gonna try to deprive her of her fun?”

Casey groaned theatrically, thumping his forehead on her shoulder. “This is revenge for last night, isn’t it?” he mumbled in her ear, too low for Severride to hear.

“Maybe a little, but we’ll continue that conversation tonight,” she murmured back, flicking her tongue out to graze his earlobe and smirking at the hot warning glare he shot her.

Severride snorted, catching some of the exchange, if not the words themselves. “Far be it for me to deprive the girls of their fun,” he said, holding up his hands. “So I guess this means that I’m back to threatening you, Brett.”

She raised her brows in silent challenge as Casey sat up in alarm. “You can try.”

“Annd that’s my cue to make a strategic retreat,” he said, quickly grabbing his coffee cup and putting action to words as he moved to the couch out of the way.

They ignored him as they stood up, facing off like two cowboys in a western showdown. Severride topped her by a good six inches as she glared up at him. “Before we begin, I just have one thing to say: just remember who Katherine left her recipe book to, Kelly Severride.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Her entire recipe book? Not just the snicker doodles?”

She smiled slowly, all feline now. “The entire book. And I was thinking that it might be nice to host Thanksgiving this year, since Casey and I haven’t really thanked you and everyone for your part in getting us here…“ She batted her eyelashes as Casey snorted from the couch, knowing that she was referring to all of the meddling their friends had done to push them together.

“But I just wouldn’t feel right about that if we’re going to have a discussion that includes threats,” she finished, now all innocence. “Now, what were you going to say, Kelly?”

“Case, you are on your own,” Severride called, shaking his head slowly in admiration.

“Thanks for the support, buddy.”

“Hey, you screw this up, you get what you deserve,” he retorted, pulling Brett into a hug before she could protest. “My little Brat, all grown up and threatening people! I’m so proud.”

“Ugh! Severride! Get off!” She groaned, laughing and shoving ineffectively. “Go pester Stella for a while.”

“Fine. You guys coming to Molly’s tonight?” He said, finally letting her go.

They exchanged resigned looks. “Might as well run the gauntlet tonight. Let them get it out of their system before shift tomorrow,” Casey said as she joined him on the couch.

“Aw, let them have their fun. This has been a long time coming,” Severride teased. “Not to mention a group effort.”

“We are aware, and have every intention of returning the favor.” Sylvie replied. “Starting with Emily. You want in?”

“Emily Foster is a menace and I pity the poor sap who tries to tame her.” Severride grinned. “Of course I’m in. I’ll see you two tonight.”

They watched in amusement as he paused and backtracked to steal the now warm pancakes from the oven, balancing two on top of his coffee cup and stuffing the third in his mouth to free up a hand for the door. Casey raised his cup in a silent toast, shaking his head, as Severride winked and left.

“Chief sent that text before Severride came over here,” he said into the silence. “And he has an iPhone, so I know he read it.”

“Casey.”

“What?”

The look she sent him was fondly exasperated. “That was Severride’s way of checking up on you! He misses having you around, silly.”

“But I see him all the time, and I’m right across the hall, not across town,” he protested.

“Yeah, and before that you were down the hall – within yelling distance – for nearly two years, plus all the other times you two have lived together,” she pointed out. “Even when one of you were sulking, you were still _there_. Now you aren’t.”

“We don’t sulk,” he grumbled. “Well, I don’t. He does, usually because I’m right.”

“Matt,” she chided.

“Fine,” he relented with a sigh. “Let me go take a shower and I will go drag his stubborn ass out on the lake for a few hours.”

“That sounds like a brilliant idea. I’m so glad you thought of it.” She smiled as he grumbled again before leaning in to kiss her.

“Uh huh.” Sending her one last sardonic look, he pushed up off of the couch and walked away, shaking his head.

***

“So, I was thinking…” Sylvie drawled from the doorway of his bedroom about 30 minutes later.

“Uh oh,” he deadpanned as he emerged from his bathroom, still shirtless and barefoot, dark jeans riding low on his hipbones as he ambled over to his dresser. He pulled his shirt over his head before eyeing her warily. “Not this again.”

She ignored him to continue, “…and despite your exemplary efforts last night, my brain is back to normal functioning order, which means that you and I need to talk.”

“What about Severride?” He questioned innocently, raising his brows.

“Drag him up on to the roof tomorrow for cigars. This is important,” she informed him, pivoting on her heel. “I’ll meet you out in the living room.”

Casey held in his amusement until she was out of sight and earshot. He had fully expected this reaction, which was why he hadn’t bothered to text his friend about taking the boat out after all. Not that he was going to tell her that…

She was waiting impatiently when he walked into the living room, ready to pounce, but he held up his hands first.

“It’s a beautiful day, and if I’m not going to be spending it out on the water then you owe me breakfast before any type of serious conversations,” he said. “Chocolatte or the Riverwalk?”

Her stomach growled at that moment, making him grin and her roll her eyes. “Riverwalk,” she sighed, giving in. “I want churros, and I was planning to hit the farmer’s market and art faire anyway.”

He gestured towards the door. “Lead the way.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Casey and Brett talk it out...and then explore some other forms of communication.

“You know, no matter how hard you stare at me, I can’t actually read your mind.” Casey said without looking at her as they meandered down the trail.

It was still early enough that they were nearly alone except for the occasional jogger or bicyclist that zoomed by. The day promised to soar into the mid eighties later though, so Sylvie had dressed for the heat in cut off shorts that rose to mid thigh and a short sleeved shirt with Molly’s logo on it that Lily had designed for the bar a while ago.

The sheer heat and intensity that had flared in his eyes when he saw her standing in his doorway still threatened to take her breath away at the mere memory. Part of her was grateful that he had suggested going out, because if they had stayed in the apartment then she would have jumped him, and while Foster would be ecstatic that she had finally taken her advice, they both needed to be rational and clear headed before indulging again.

She had thought that being with Antonio and maybe Cruz had prepared her, but even they had been flat liners in comparison to the man walking quietly next to her, and once again she found herself in the position of being not quite sure how to respond to him.

“Sorry,” she apologized finally, flushing as he glanced at her. “Just, I’m trying to wrap my mind around things, and I can’t seem to.” He snickered and she nudged him, strangely comforted by the teasing sound. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you can be quite overwhelming when you want to be, Matt.”

She was disconcertingly honest when she was flustered, he noted, filing the information away for future. He liked it; liked her like this, sweet and off balance. He was so used to watching her work on the job, practical and efficient, that it gave him a bit of a heady rush, knowing that he was the cause.

“I will take full credit and responsibility for that, anytime.”

Her eyes widened, recognizing the smug male tone. “That was _not_ a challenge, Matt Casey.” His answering slow smirk made her huff.

“More of a personal goal to surpass, every single time,” he mused thoughtfully, laughing as she shoved him again.

“I’m serious,” she complained, though she couldn’t help the reluctant smile. “Casey, in the space of 24 hours we have gone from coworkers and friends, to…whatever this is,” she waved her hand between them in exasperation. 

“Don’t forget almost engaged.”

“Oh, let’s not forget the thing that triggered this whole…sequence of events in the first place!” She exclaimed, turning to face him and throwing her hands up in the air, working up to a fine snit. “You said last night that no matter what happens that our friendship and ‘the way I feel about you’ won’t change.” She paused expectantly, waiting for a response, but he just watched her quietly. “You want to clarify some on that, Casey? Because there’s a whole lot to unpack in there that I might be totally reading wrong –“

She was wearing sneakers instead of her favored short boots, so he had to bend down a bit to cover her mouth with his, interrupting whatever else she might have said. They were alone for the moment on the path, but he remained mindful of their surroundings, limiting himself to one taste, although he couldn’t help sliding his hands into her back jean pockets, his fingers curling slightly in reflex before releasing.

She jerked away, though his deliberate grip didn’t let her go far, licking her lips and trying desperately to maintain her mad. “Matt Casey you cannot kiss me every time you want me to stop talking!”

“How else am I supposed to get a word in otherwise?” He replied, all innocence and dancing blue eyes. “As to how I feel about you…Sylvie, you’re one of my best friends, and I believe that we could become something incredible together without sacrificing that friendship. Can’t that be enough for now?”

She couldn’t help the perverse flash of disappointment, though logically she knew sudden confessions of love and forever only happened in the movies. It wouldn’t even be plausible, especially since she had no idea what her response would be if he had actually confessed to stronger feelings.

Wow, he had scrambled her brain more than she thought, with the way her emotions were swinging back and forth. Sighing gustily, she let her forehead thump into his chest. “Ow.” She felt the soft rumble of his laughter. “I don’t know why I’m being so wishy washy about this,” she mumbled without lifting her head. “Is this what it’s like for other normal couples?”

Casey snorted, rubbing her back and shoulders soothingly as she draped her arms around his waist. “My current examples of ‘normal’ couples include Severride and Kidd and Herrmann and Cindy, so my research data is understandably skewed,” he replied wryly. “And while I loved both Hallie and Gabby, in both cases we skipped over a lot – most, actually – of the so called ‘normal’ couple milestones that others take for granted, so we definitely didn’t fit under that label either. Dating and flirting and dinner parties. There was always something bigger than us that interfered, even after Gabby and I got married, and that always became the focus and common goal keeping us together. Anytime that we didn’t have an outside distraction, where it was just us, we fell apart.”

Sylvie was silent as he voiced some hard truths to her that he hadn’t admitted to anyone else, including himself.

“But with you…Sylvie, we’ve gone through some big, life changing things over the past few months, and it didn’t overwhelm or take over our friendship.” He shrugged, slightly self-conscious now as he glanced at her with a hint of vulnerability. “I’d like to think that it actually brought us closer.”

She nodded slowly. “It has. You’ve become my rock,” she admitted honestly. “I have no idea what I would have done – or what I would do – without you to talk to.”

“And that’s not going to change,” he said fiercely. “You’re stuck with me no matter what.” Taking a breath, he deliberately relaxed, softening the pledge with a playful smirk. “There’s just going to be a lot more kissing and…other things now too.”

When he put it that way, all of her misgivings and over thinking seemed a bit, not silly because they were valid emotions, but inconsequential. This was still Matt Casey, who she trusted with her life and had immediately trusted with her body, without hesitation. It was just her heart that was a bit reluctant to join the fray, but that was okay too, she decided. She had rushed with Antonio, plodded along with Kyle. Maybe with Casey she could finally find a balance in her relationship that fit them both.

She was silent for a long moment before her lips curved slowly. “Not everything has to move at the speed of Severride, Matt,” She finally replied wryly, startling a laugh out of him. “I wouldn’t call any of my relationships normal either, if we’re being totally honest. I already gave you an emotional run down last night, which was dirty pool, Casey – were you genuinely interested, or just gathering intel?”

Busted. He grinned unrepentantly. “Are you going to yell at me if I say both? It’s working out for us so far, and I did say that someone should learn and benefit from their mistakes.”

Sylvie shook her head at him, trying to hide her smile. ”Well, without emotionally vomiting on you all over again, I tend to attract guys who either don’t want to or simply can’t commit, and therefore are just going through the motions physically, mentally and emotionally because they’ve already put an expiration date on our relationship.”

She grimaced at the knowing look in his eyes, not needing to speak Antonio’s name out loud. “Or I get the ones who are the extremes, too cautious and treating me like a pampered princess, or immediately going physical because they don’t want me to focus on the emotional and mental.” She let a hint of her rueful smile show. “I suddenly have a lot more empathy for Goldilocks now. So I don’t mind feeling our way along, Casey. Enjoy the journey and learn how to be a normal couple together. Whatever that even means.”

She hesitated for a moment before deliberately stepping forward, sliding her hands up to his shoulders and then to the nape of his neck as she stretched up on her toes to kiss him, feeling him smile against her lips. It was the first time she had consciously made the first move and she relaxed into it, luxuriating in being surrounded by his strength and warmth and feeling ridiculously feminine and sexy and _wanted_. “Okay,” she managed breathlessly, pulling away long enough to rest her forehead against his. “I’m convinced.”

“Are you sure? Because I have a whole list of – “

“Take yes as an answer, Matt.” She laughed as he picked her up and twirled her in an exuberant circle before kissing her soundly again.

“You’re mine now,” he murmured against her mouth, his eyes sparkling with happiness and warmth. “Now there’s definitely no going back.”

She smiled softly, running her fingers over his jaw as her heart skipped a beat. “For better or for worse, you’re mine just as much as I am yours, Matt Casey.”

For most new couples she supposed that that moment would have been a signal for them to return back home for some privacy, but apparently she and Casey weren’t going to be ‘most couples’, because after one more peck to her forehead they resumed walking in contented silence.

The food trucks lining the walkway heralded the start of the section reserved for the farmer’s market and summer art faire, with Mama Garcia’s cheerfully bright orange taking pride of position up front.

“I’ll go get the food, you go find us a seat?” Casey suggested, eyeing the nearly full seating areas.

“Or, I go with you and buy for once, and then we eat as we walk back to the truck,” Sylvie countered in amusement, having expected his suggestion. “I bet most people started at the market and art faire, and are now heading this way for lunch. I don’t need fresh flowers that badly.”

“Lead on, modern woman,” he conceded, gesturing for her to go first. “It’s your paycheck.”

“Shut up.” She scoffed, bumping him with her hip. “I’ll buy lunch, you buy dessert later. I may want ice cream instead.”

“First pancakes, now tamales and ice cream,” he teased. “What happened to making up the spin classes, featherweight?”

“I burned plenty of calories last night, thanks to you,” she retorted, surprising a delighted bark of laughter out of him. “And see? You’re already a bad influence on me, Matt Casey. Not even an hour into an official relationship with you and I’m making sex jokes.”

“Oh, I’m definitely claiming full responsibility for that,” he smirked, leaning in to kiss her, reveling in the fact that he could do so freely now. “Although, I’m willing to share credit with Otis. He would be so proud right now.”

She smiled wistfully as they got their food and started back towards the parking lot. “Yeah he would.”

Otis had made it a personal mission to teach her at least one vice, claiming that no one who worked in a firehouse could possibly stay that sweet and innocent for long, and it would be for her own good. He had come up with the idea as a distraction after Antonio broke things off the first time around, so she hadn’t had the heart to dissuade such a sweet gesture.

“He still mostly failed on teaching me how to tell dirty jokes in general, but I may or may not have discovered the therapeutic outlet of cussing,” she confided with a sideways grin. “Only under extreme stress and circumstances though.”

The teasingly heated leer he shot her was rife with memories of the night before and her viscerally explicit responses. “I think that it’s only fair that if I cause you extreme stress, I should help to relieve it too.”

She smirked. “Nicely done. Way to innuendo.”

“You inspired me.”

They snickered at each other, enjoying the unexpected freedom and ease of their banter and blunt conversation. It was a new experience for them both, and it probably would not have worked with anyone else, including – or maybe especially – any of their past relationships. But somehow, for them, it worked. More importantly, the familiar ease of their banter and conversation was a subtle sign that the major shift in their relationship hadn’t changed _them_.

Maybe they were actually going to be okay, she mused, cheered by the thought.

After all, this was still Matt Casey; steady, reliable, solid, honest, and true. She could trust in him enough to let her guard down a bit, and just go with the flow, not try to plan ahead or worry about the future. Well, no more than she currently did, anyway.

The return trip took less time than the one out, aided by a subtle undercurrent of anticipation, now that they had gotten most of the main negotiations out of the way. Casey wasn’t sure if Sylvie had picked up on it, but he had some definite plans for when they returned back to the apartment, and all of them featured her.

“You want to go impose on Severride and Stella for dinner, or pick something up on the way home and relax for a while before we go to Molly’s?”

She considered for a moment. “I’m not really hungry again, are you? Let’s just go home and maybe pick something up on the way to Molly’s if we change our minds.”

He nodded, driving one handed as she absently took his hand to play with his fingers, tracing each digit and entwining them with her slender, paler hand, admiring the contrasts of light and tan. They spent the trip in content silence, each lost in their own thoughts, and once back at the apartment took care of some mundane activities before settling onto the couch with a sigh.

Sylvie found the remote and switched on the television, finally settling on a movie before tucking her feet under him and leaning into his side.

Casey watched her out of the corner of his eye, waiting with resigned inward amusement. Today had been a revelation in a multitude of ways, but the one that stood out the most to him was the reinforcement of the fact that Sylvie Brett hated change and chaos. Rules, parameters, laying everything on the line and talking it all out until things fit into the neat boxes of her life, that’s what made her world go ‘round. And while they had done a lot of talking earlier – more than he had likely done with any woman in his life – he had a feeling that they were far from done.

He was both amused and bemused that he had somehow managed to go from Gabby Dawson, Queen of loud (accusing) silences, to Sylvie Brett the open book, but he honestly wouldn’t have it any other way right now.

Not that he planned on doing much talking, when it came down to it. Some things were more fun to experience in the moment…

“Still not a mind reader,” he said, keeping his attention on the television, even as his lips twitched. “You get two more questions, so make ‘em good.”

He didn’t see Sylvie hide her own grin. She had been wondering how long it would take him to break…

“Only two questions? That hardly seems fair,” she mused. “I know this is a bit of a foreign concept for you, Mister Stoic and Always In Control, but communication is a big part of any solid relationship.” She shrugged innocently, raising her brows when he shot her a look. “Hey, you opened the floodgates by being such a good sounding board over the past few months, Casey. You have no one to blame but yourself.”

His lips curled into a slow grin, making her heart skip a beat. Uh-oh. She had forgotten the dangers in challenging this potent man, especially when he was deliberately turning on the charm. She was in _so_ much trouble…

“Copy that. I promise that I will tell you every single thought that goes through my head when it comes to you,” he said solemnly.

“I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking right now,” she replied, a bit breathlessly, as his warm palms curled around her thighs, urging her to straddle him as he leaned back into the couch, slouching a bit lower. She went willingly, bracing her hands on his shoulders and staying slightly on her knees above him.

“Are you sure? Because I agree, communication is essential. Verbal,” he cupped her cheek, running his thumb over her lips and smirking when she playfully nipped. “Nonverbal.” He leaned up to press his mouth against the base of her throat, breathing in the scent of cherry blossoms and flicking his tongue out against the pulse fluttering underneath her skin. “And of course, body language.” She gasped as he gripped her ass, squeezing lightly before urging her down to grind against him. “I told you - I’m not a mind reader, you know.”

No, but he was an absolute _tease_.

“Hey Matt?” She breathed against his mouth, nipping at his lower lip and holding it briefly with sharp white teeth before letting go. "Sometimes you say it best when you say nothing at all.”

She kissed him before he could reply, feeling the low rumble of his laughter as she sank into the embrace, his scent and taste filling her senses as he threaded his fingers through her hair. He tasted like blueberry pancakes and whiskey, mixed with the ever present faint tang of smoke and outdoors.

She could tell by the way he touched her, savoring but without the intense focus of the night before, that they weren’t going to do anything much more than make out. Which was fine, since they really did need to get ready to go soon, and there was already going to be enough teasing from their friends without his renewing the stubble burn on her neck as evidence of what they had been up to.

Still, there was no reason to just meekly go along with what was very obviously a silent command, especially when he was holding back again for some reason. What was the fun in that?

She deliberately deepened the kiss, enticing and teasing until he responded with a bit more aggression. While he was distracted she moved fast, her hands trailing down his chest to find the hem of his t-shirt and the metal button underneath.

He instantly grabbed her hands, pulling her arms behind her and trapping her wrists at the small of her back with one hand. She twisted in his grip, rubbing hard nipples against his chest as she arched towards him. Taking instant advantage, he fastened his mouth at the base of her throat and suckled hard, drawing a moan, before licking a hot stripe up her neck to her earlobe.

“Slow burn, not a flare and flashover,” he rumbled in her ear, feeling the shiver that coursed through her body at his voice. “And we definitely don’t have the time for everything I have in mind right now.”

They stared at each other, breathing hard, Casey with a hint of challenge, Sylvie with an unreadable expression as she absorbed and considered his words. After a moment she slowly relaxed in his grip, silently conceding. He released his hold on her wrists and she moved off of his lap to curl up at his side, her hands now resting innocently on his stomach, on top of his t-shirt.

“Challenge accepted.”

It took a moment for her words to sink in. Casey’s eyes widened, then narrowed at her. “That was _not_ a challenge, Sylvie,” he warned, his voice hard.

The slow smile and glint in her eyes made his heart beat faster and his cock harden again. Oh, he was in _so_ much trouble.

“Your definition of slow and my version obviously differ significantly,” she pointed out logically. “So I’m just going to have to persuade you to my way of thinking.” She patted his stomach, the move and her tone patronizing. “That’s okay. I was the captain of my debate team in high school, so I like a challenge.”

She used the hand on his stomach to push up off of the couch and stand, feeling the hard muscle tighten reflexively as he grunted in surprise at the sudden weight. She padded over to the fridge, feeling the hot burn of his narrowed gaze on her as she sauntered away, hiding her smirk.

Casey was torn between shock, being ridiculously smug and proud, and wanting to paddle that cute little butt until it turned pink under his hand before taking her to his bed and not letting her up for the next 48 hours. Who knew that Sylvie Brett was such a sexy little tease? Hopefully no one who was still in the country; of all of her exes, he guessed that Antonio was likely the most responsible for her sexual confidence and experience. Maybe the chaplain had had hidden depths to him, but the couple of encounters with the man had given Casey the sense that he was somewhat…flat. Personally, professionally, he just seemed very vanilla. Then again, he was currently engaged to Hope, so…

He shook his head, not needing to finish that thought, refocusing on the smug little blonde currently bent over in front of his fridge, her body outlined through her thin t-shirt by the light.

“You want a water or something while I’m up?” She called, deliberately casual as she raised her brows in query and silent amusement. She could practically see and hear the wheels turning in Casey’s head, reassessing and adjusting his plan of attack according to the new variables that had just been unexpectedly presented.

“Water is fine.”

She had worked with him, watched him lead his men into burning buildings and come out unharmed after completing another near impossible rescue hundreds of times. Analyzing, adjusting, planning new tactics…she had no doubt that he applied those same techniques to his personal and sexual relationships too. In fact, she could hardly wait.

It wasn’t going to happen that night though. Which, despite her teasing, she was still fine with. The main reason she had issued the challenge in the first place was actually more in keeping with his slightly wistful request to be a ‘normal’ couple than he probably realized. Flirting, teasing, the sexual back and forth banter- they all came with being part of a couple, especially one just starting out together. The same went for his calling a halt to their make out session, despite her curiosity as to why, especially when he hadn’t had any sexual relief last night either.

Setting boundaries, compromising and above all listening when one partner or the other hit a limit – that was also natural and normal, which was why she hadn’t pushed or argued. From his reaction though, she guessed that they had crashed through a couple of new milestones in his dating experience.

It was kind of strange, realizing that she actually had more familiarity with what constituted a ‘normal’ relationship than he did, especially when she considered her own spotty history. Still, it was something to keep in mind for the future as they started on this journey.

Everyone at 51 rolled their eyes at Severride and Kidd when they indulged in a moment of sappiness and affection, but they were surprisingly normal and really quite boring now that they had gotten past the various dramas. She really wanted that sense of normalcy and easy intimacy for her and Casey, but they had a long way to go before they reached that point.

She eyed him out of the corner of her eye contemplatively. Speaking of normal couple-y activities…

Casey watched her grab a couple of bottles and snag a leftover pancake that Severride had missed, before returning to the couch to gaze at him expectantly when he didn’t move. He frowned.

“What?”

Huffing in amused exasperation – amusement at his distraction, exasperation tinged with anger at Dawson -surely there had been time at _some_ point in their relationship to be a normal couple amid all the drama? – she gestured for his right hand as she set the waters on the coffee table.

He warily complied, and she lifted his arm up out of the way as she reclaimed her spot, curled up at his side. She leaned forward to grab the water bottles and the remote, before relaxing back into the couch and his warm body. After a moment, his arm came slowly down to rest around her shoulders, a reassuring weight that she relaxed further into as she idly flipped through the channels. Taking another bite of her pancake, she chewed contemplatively before glancing up at him.

“You weren’t kidding about not having done normal couple-y stuff in a while, were you?” Her tone was wry and gently teasing, tinged with understanding.

Casey grimaced. “Not since well before Gabby left,” he admitted ruefully, opening his water.

She nodded thoughtfully, still nibbling on her pancake as she watched Paul Walker and Vin Diesel gleefully out drive The Rock, leaving mayhem and chaos and plenty of explosions in their wake.

“Severride isn’t exactly the snuggle on the couch and watch a movie type.”

He nearly choked on his water. “More like the Netflix and chill type,” he replied. “Unless by ‘snuggle’ you really meant ‘separate chairs’, and by movie you meant ‘something equally male bonding and chauvinistic like football or hockey.’”

“Of course,” she agreed. “So more genuine brothers than secret bromance. That’s what I always figured, but it was fun to see it in action this morning.” She finally broke at his disgusted expression, overcome with helpless giggles. “Hey, rumors about how close we all are at 51 have circulated for years. And you and Severride can be quite the lethal duo when you are working in tandem, rather than yelling at each other loud enough to bring down the rafters.”

“Hey, yelling at Severride is a great stress reliever,” Casey protested with a sideways grin. “Granted, this time we just didn’t want to incur the wrath of Hangry Stella the Kidd, but it usually works wonders. You should try it some time.”

She returned his grin with a teasing smirk. “Better than sex?”

“You’ll have to ask Kidd about that. Yelling _at_ him is different than just yelling, after all.”

Her lips quirked in response as she took his hand, playing with the long fingers and intertwining them with her own paler ones. “I’m a pretty tactile person,” she admitted, changing the subject. “Touchy feely. It’s a thing. Expect lots of hand holding, hugging. Snuggling. Also a thing.” She sent him an impish grin. “Basically, prepare to have your personal bubble popped.”

“Are you going to wine and dine me first at least?”

They snickered at each other.

“Cruz claims that I am a sniper snuggler and a sweatshirt stealer, but I maintain that the man is literally an oversized human teddy bear, and therefore I am not responsible for my actions.” Like quicksilver, her hands slipped under his t-shirt to his flat stomach, fingers teasingly grazing his zipper before moving up to poke him in the bellybutton. “You’re not as squishy as Cruz, but you’ll do.”

“Thank you?” He replied, half quizzically, allowing the touch since she kept it soothing and not sexual.

“So how are we going to play this at work?” She asked after a minute, her hand still idly stroking up and down his side, trying not to grin at her victory.

“There’s really not much to change,” he mused. “We already spend time together anyway away from the others, so maybe if we don’t make a big deal about it then neither will they.”

“Makes sense.” She nodded. “Start as we mean to go on.” She flashed him a naughty smirk. “What about playing at work?”

His eyes darkened with interest. “I have no limits,” he murmured. “You?”

“Nothing that will distract or take away from the job,” she replied instantly. “Cruz and I kept the PDA to a minimum, but that was more for his tender sensibilities than mine.”

“Learning intriguing new things about you every minute, Sylvie Brett,” he mused, brushing her hair off of her face.

He was also growing more and more infatuated with her unique mix of wide eyed innocence and endearingly blunt honesty. There was no artifice about her, and she was constantly surprising him with her open willingness to broach topics that he had assumed would be explored-but not necessarily talked about- and boundaries defined over the course of their new relationship.

He shouldn’t have been surprised, though. Sylvie liked rules and knowing what she was getting herself into as much as possible. Sensible questions, especially from a grounded farm girl perspective, eliminated a lot of fuss and misunderstandings and the confrontations that inevitably came up from a lack of open communication, which she hated and tried to avoid as much as possible.

Casey considered himself to be much of the same mindset, although working alongside Severride and his time as alderman had taught him to be somewhat more diplomatic than blunt. But he loved it in Sylvie, and the fact that she was already comfortable enough and trusted him enough to have these conversations without hesitation or (much) blushing was a personal point of pride and a private stroke to his ego that he didn’t mind indulging in at all.

There weren’t many people-if any- in her life that he knew of whom she was so endearingly open with, and that included both Stella and Emily. He liked seeing this side to her, having a part of his girlfriend that no one else got to see.

“However, the showers are an absolute hard no.” She wrinkled her nose, giving an exaggerated shudder as he burst out laughing. “I’m serious! Nearly every couple that has dated at 51 has hooked up in those showers, and there has not been nearly enough Candidates through the firehouse to have scrubbed them as well as they should have been since then! Stella over shares way too much more than I ever needed to know about her and Severride. And speaking of which, you need to make Gallo scrub out the turnout room the next time he gets in trouble. Cuz yuck.”

“The shelves are really sturdy though. Lots of good places for handholds,” he informed her.

“Matt!”

His bright laughter filled the air again and she couldn’t help the affectionate smile that curled her lips as she watched him look and act his age, instead of the too serious and solemn Captain everyone saw at 51 and in public. This Matt Casey had an incredibly dry and dirty sense of humor and a playful side to him that she bet only a few got to see. She loved it, and had every intention of encouraging that side to come out more around her and maybe in public.

Maybe not, though. She wasn’t sure Chicago was ready for their one dimensional view of Captain Matt Casey to be flipped on its head. Besides, she kind of liked that she was one of a select few even within 51 that he trusted enough to fully relax around.

“Although, the turnout room is way too popular. It’s only number four on my list, but Sev has it at like two, or something.”

“Matthew Casey,” she said sternly. “Please tell me that you did not just imply that you have a top ten list of your favorite hookup spots at 51!”

“Sylvie Brett,” he retorted in the same tone. “I told you earlier that I have been at 51 for nearly ten years, plus Kelly Severride is my best friend. I would think that you would be more surprised if I _didn’t_ have a favorites list!”

She paused, considering. “Very true.” She conceded, dropping the façade as her eyes sparkled naughtily. “So then do you have other spots that overlap, or is your list completely separate from his?”

His smile grew a hint of teeth as she let him maneuver her once more so that she was straddling his lap on her knees, bracing her hands on his shoulders as she leaned over him. She didn’t bother pointing out that they had just been here a few minutes ago, more interested in what he was currently plotting.

“He has his preferences, I have mine,” he replied. “It’s gonna be a lot more fun to show you than just tell, though.”

“I dunno,” she mused, still not finished teasing. “I just can’t quite picture the logistics of the whole thing, Casey. Even in your quarters.”

“Well,” his hands slipped under her shirt to stroke up her back as he began laying a line of nibbling kisses and licks along her neck between words. “With firehouse hookups, it’s really all about the timing. Sometimes you only have a few minutes.” His hands drifted to her belly and paused for a minute before moving upwards, drawing her shirt – and her suddenly loosened bra – with it.

“How did you – “ she started, before throwing her head back with a surprised moan, arching into him as his hot mouth covered her nipple and sucked the whole thing into his mouth, his tongue working and licking. “Dammit Matt,” she gasped, her eyes nearly rolling back into her head as he blew gently before curling his tongue around the tip.

At the same time, his left hand skimmed down, slipping into her loosened shorts and panties to swipe a single line up her pussy, groaning again at the wetness, before slowly penetrating with two thick fingers, his thumb finding and pressing hard against her clit and then rubbing as he moved his forearm in a rapid back and forth motion, hard and fast.

She exploded with another surprised cry, coating his hand in wetness, her body shaking and vibrating as he returned his attention to her breasts, grazing and then tugging on her nipples with his teeth before soothing with his tongue as she shuddered, sending more aftershocks through her as her mind went blank with euphoric pleasure.

She slumped, boneless, as he slowly withdrew his fingers, feeling the last tremors shiver through her in reaction. He drew her bra the rest of the way down, over her arms and through the armhole of her shirt before pulling the rest of the material back down and rubbing soothing circles on her back as her breath slowly evened out.

“See? All about the timing.” He smirked into her neck, stifling a curse as she cuddled into him. “Also, challenge accepted.”

“It’s rude to gloat, Matthew Casey,” she mumbled into his shoulder, boneless. “But I suppose I can forgive you just this once. Also, what the _fuck_.”

He snickered into her hair. “Language, Sylvie.”

She lifted her head to stare dazedly at him in disbelief. “If ever there was a moment that warranted explicit language, this is it, Matthew Casey! So again, for the nonexistent people in the back: what the fuck? What happened to slow burn, not a flashover, Sylvie?” She pitched her voice deeper to imitate him, ignoring his snort of amusement.

There she went with that flushed, blunt honesty, he noted with an inward grin that wasn’t so inward. “You convinced me to rethink my definition a bit. And, you were questioning the logistics of a firehouse hookup. I thought a practical demonstration was in order. Actions speak louder than words, Sylvie,” he teased, still looking so damned pleased with himself that she shook her head, rolling her eyes even as she kissed that smug grin off of his face.

“You are ridiculous,” she sighed, her body still humming with pleasure.

“You are amazing,” he countered, even as his firm grip on her hips prevented her from lowering herself down to grind on him. “And it’s nearly time to go if we want to catch everyone before the evening rush.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “This isn’t over.”

“That was _not_ a challenge, Sylvie Brett,” he warned.

“And yet, here we are. This is the second night in a row that you have turned my brains to mush, yet taken nothing for yourself,” she retorted. “You’re holding back for some reason, Matt. Your reasons why are your own, and I’m not going to ask. But this particular conversation is far from over.” She walked away, head held high, before he could reply.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foster threatens Casey, Severide complains about Brett's boob sweat, and Kidd sides with her girl.
> 
> AKA a normal night at Molly's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long guys, but life has a bad habit of getting in the way of the creative process! Shorthand summary: my computer died, I had surgery, and my co worker went out of the country for a week to attend her grandfather's funeral. Sounds like a bad country song, right? LOL
> 
> Anyway, I am back, and although I am not going to jinx myself by making promises about frequent updates, they ARE coming. I have every intention of finishing this story at least before the new season of CF starts.
> 
> This chapter is mostly fluff, tbh, but it helped get me back into a writing frame of mind. Enjoy!

“Are you sure about this?” Casey said doubtfully as he pulled onto a side street near Molly’s and shut off the engine. “Not that you don’t look sexy as hell, but…you really think that your wearing my jacket is going to generate that much of a response from our friends?” She raised her brows at him and he hastened to add, “It’s not a bad plan, just seems a bit…simplistic for a group who is not exactly known for picking up subtleties.”

Sylvie couldn’t help giggling at his careful wording and diplomatic attitude as they got out of his truck and started walking up the block towards the bar. She hadn’t said anything else about the way they had ended things before she had walked away earlier to go get ready, and it was obvious that he still didn’t quite know how to react to her now.

From his point of view, she supposed she could understand his confusion, since most women would have been over the moon at having a man focus on giving pleasure more than receiving, and not dared to question their luck. It was the opposite for her – too many of her past relationships had used sex as a way to distance themselves and maintain control rather than allowing themselves to become physically and emotionally vulnerable for even that brief time though, so the fact that he hadn’t actually had sex with her yet was an instant red flag. There was no way to easily explain that to him without feeling awkward and embarrassed though, despite their agreement to try to be open and honest with each other, so she had acted like the whole thing hadn’t happened when she had poked her head into his room to ask to borrow his jacket.

One of the many things that she loved about Matt Casey though, was his willingness and ability to adjust to new situations and changes. Raging house fires were much easier to understand and predict than female moods and logic, so he followed her lead, relaxing slightly as she tucked her arm into his and leaned into his side.

“Matt, did you already forget about Severide dropping in on us this morning?” She laughed as they started up the block. “I have no expectation whatsoever that he actually kept his word about not spilling to Stella the second he walked back into his apartment. Well, once he finished eating his pancakes.”

Casey rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t have stopped him.”

“And yet, I haven’t heard a peep from her or Foster, and they both knew that I was coming over for dinner last night, and that my car has been here since then,” she continued.

“True.”

“So all of this,” she gestured at her outfit. “Is really just for fun and show.” She tugged him to a stop, bringing him with her as she leaned up against the wall in the shadows just beyond Molly’s door. “And because I wanted to wear something of yours anyway.”

He huffed a laugh. “You’ve already got my t-shirt, socks, boxers, and hoodie,” he pointed out, amused. “And we’ve only been dating for two days.”

“It’s part of the unofficial boyfriend contract,” she replied solemnly. “Page six, Section 12, Article XXII. I, the newly smitten, hereby agree to the sharing of all shirts, sweatshirts, socks, and other clothing, especially after the aforementioned items have been either freshly laundered or recently worn.”

“Freshly laundered or recently worn, hmm? That’s covering all your bases,” Casey murmured, threading his hands through her silky hair, before winding some of the golden strands around his fingers. She was adorable. And he was way beyond smitten, as well as in way over his head. “You are getting your own socks for Christmas though,” he continued, making her smile widen. “How do you have cold toes in the middle of June?”

“Bad circulation,” she shrugged, sliding her hands to his chest and up to the nape of his neck. “Socks and underwear for Christmas? That’s not very original, Casey.”

He smirked. “Who said the underwear was your present? Maybe it’s my present to myself. Victoria has many secrets, after all.”

“The gift that keeps on giving,” she teased, leaning up into him to brush his mouth with hers, kissing him lightly before pushing him away. “C’mon, Santa Casey – we should probably go inside before the girls come looking for us.”

He groaned a mock protest, but let her duck under his arm to open the door.

“Whoo, sexy mama!” Foster whooped as soon as they walked in.

It was Friday, so Kidd and Herrmann were both manning the bar in anticipating of the inevitable rush once the shift changes for medical and the police department sent thirsty first responders ready to unwind and destress their way. They had deliberately arrived a bit early, so it was mainly their friends hanging out.

Mouch, Gallo and Ritter were already bellied up to the bar in their usual spots. Severride, Capp, Tony, Cruz, and some of the guys from Engine were setting up for their weekly poker night at the back corner table, which was where Foster had come from upon seeing the couple walk in.

The other woman eyed her with interest as they approached, her brows shooting up as she noted how close they were and the deliberately possessive hand Casey kept on the small of the blonde’s back. “I’m totally borrowing that jacket, just so you know,” she said as he gently urged Brett onto the stool between him and the wall. “Is it vintage? I didn’t know that the CFD made leather jackets, especially in a letterman style.”

“They don’t anymore,” Casey shrugged. “My graduating class at the Academy collaborated with some of the fashion majors over at the Art Institute of Chicago. It’s not hers to lend out, but I know what to get you for Christmas now.”

Her eyes narrowed, although they were sparkling with laughter. “And why exactly is _my_ partner wearing _your_ jacket?”

“I gave my girlfriend my jacket because she looks better in it than I do,” he replied, infusing his voice with just a hint of challenge. “If that’s alright with you.”

“Oh no, I’m good. Just as long as Brett’s good. You good, Brett?”

“Yes, Foster,” Brett answered patiently, her shoulders shaking with laughter. “I’m good.” They were all well aware of the situation, as she had pointed out to Casey outside, but she let them have their fun.

“Good.” Foster and Casey were the same height when he was sitting and she was standing, so it was easy for her to lean in close to stare menacingly into his eyes. “You hurt her, I hurt you. I’m a paramedic and a former doctor; I can take you apart so no one can put you back together again, and I have enough friends in blue places that I could I walk away, scot free.”

Casey raised his brows as he deliberately took a sip of his beer, before setting it down. He regarded her for a long moment, his head tilted curiously. “How long have you been wanting to use that line?”

She blinked. “Since I became a paramedic, pretty much.”

“It’s a good line. The ‘friends in blue places’ was a nice touch,” he said with a grin. “You use it on Severride yet?”

“Nah. He and I had our own big sister moment, and he has since pulled his head out of his ass, so I didn’t have to resort to threats.” She frowned suddenly. “You did that on purpose.”

“Did what?” he said innocently.

“Distracted me out of my mad. Dang it, Casey! I had a whole speech prepared and everything.” They smirked at each other as Brett muffled her giggles in his shoulder. “Well played, Capt. Well played.”

Casey toasted her with his beer bottle. “Well, I have been trained to diffuse highly volatile and potentially dangerous situations –“

“Don’t push it.”

“Copy that.” He grinned as she rolled her eyes at him.

“Seriously though, it’s about damn time,” She said sincerely. “I was about at the point where if one of you didn’t make a move at some point extremely soon, I was going to lock you in a room somewhere until the UST got resolved.”

Sylvie nearly choked on her beer. Matt glanced at her, his eyes bright with mischief now as she shot him a warning look that he ignored.

“I’m not even joking! Do you know how many places there are to sneak around in at 51 alone? All the supply and utility closets, the work out room that no one ever goes in, plus there’s the obvious choice of just locking you two in your quarters –“

“All the closets are locked or full except the ones in the bunk room, the workout room doesn’t have a lock on it, the turnout room is all about timing, and my quarters manually lock from the inside and only by key on the outside since that dirtbag Keller got into my toolbox and stole my crescent wrench with the intent of targeting Severride,” he rattled off, smirking at Foster’s surprise and Sylvie’s sigh. “I’ve worked at 51 with Kelly Severride as one of my closest friends and occasional wingman, plus I dated Gabby for two years and was married for four,” he scoffed. “I’m not a monk, Em.”

“Huh. In that case, we need to have a whole ‘nother conversation soon, because Andrews on first shift has been subbing for Tony on Squad, and –“

“Oh no,” he laughed, holding his hands up. “I am not aiding and abetting that hook up. He’s a good guy – entirely too good for your one and done policy.”

She pouted at him. “Fine. Well, I’m glad you two finally got things straightened out. Casey, this means that I’m officially breaking up with you as my pseudo boyfriend wingman type person. And don’t worry, it’s you, not me,” she teased, patting him on the arm.

He grinned. “Thanks for letting me down easy.“

“Uh huh. I’m sure Sylvie will do her best to console you.” Foster smirked as her friend rolled her eyes. “Speaking of, I’ll leave you to it. You two crazy kids have fun,” she sing-songed, walking away.

“That was fun,” Casey laughed.

Sylvie lightly pinched his side. “What have I told you about gloating?”

He turned his head to look at her, one hand coming up to tug gently at a curl. “You do look good in my jacket.”

“Good, because you’re probably not getting it back.”

“Jackets were not actually in the imaginary contract that I haven’t read.”

“Hey now, I distinctly heard you tell Foster that you gave me your jacket to wear. Not borrow,” she pointed out. “Besides, possession is 9/10th of the law.” She looked up as Kidd and Severride sat down across from them, accepting the proffered beer with a nod. “What say you, your Honor?”

“Sorry Casey, but I’m going to have to go with my girl here,” Kidd replied without missing a beat.

“Eh. It’s Severride’s jacket anyway.” He lied easily with a smirk at his friend.

“That I let you borrow!”

“Permanently borrow, which is what Brett is now doing to me.” Casey retorted, all logic now.

“Brotherhood of the Traveling Jacket,” Kidd teased. “It’ll come back eventually.”

“I don’t want it now anyway,” Severride grumped. “It’s got Brett’s girl cooties all over it.”

“Body spray and boob sweat,” she agreed solemnly.

“Gross.”

“Hey now – you weren’t complaining about my boob sweat earlier,” Kidd said mischievously. “In fact, you were the direct cause of –“

“Okay now I’m saying ew, gross!” Casey cut in quickly, waving his hands. “This is like listening to my sister talk about sex.”

Kidd frowned at him. “Christine has a teenage daughter. How do you think – “

“Go back to work, Kidd.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” She grinned triumphantly and dragged Severride away as Casey thumped his forehead against Brett’s shoulder.

“I’m scarred for life.”

“Poor baby. I’m sure you’ll survive.”

“Nope. Mentally and emotionally scarred.”

She scratched her nails over the nape of his neck, feeling his instinctive shiver. “Maybe you just need the right incentive…like guessing exactly what I have on underneath your jacket.” She murmured, deliberately playing with the zipper. She had gotten the jacket from him before she had jumped in the shower earlier, so he hadn’t had a chance to see the full outfit that had gone under it, beyond the dark jeans and her favorite boots that gave her just enough height so that he didn’t have to bend to kiss her.

He was between her and everyone else, his broad shoulders and back blocking the view, so she flicked the metal teasingly, watching his eyes darken. “Sylvie,” he rumbled.

“Care to guess?” She teased. “It’s white, and low cut, and has some sparkle to it…” She lowered the zipper as he drew breath to reply, to reveal the white women’s Chicago Bears shirt, with the logo outlined in orange and blue crystals.

“Tease.”

“But you’ve made a miraculous recovery.” She said innocently. “Bet you aren’t thinking about Stella’s boob sweat anymore.”

“Say boob again.”

“Matt,” she laughed into his hair as he leaned into her for a moment more before straightening. She was having fun, she realized as Severride joined them again. More fun than she had ever had on any of her dates or in her past relationships.

Casey had made it so easy, continuing to act as if their new relationship was a foregone conclusion, that their friends had simply fallen in line and played along as if it really was the new norm.

The guys had turned their attention to the Bears game, so Brett let their conversation wash over her as she glanced around the bar, people watching and letting that thought settle and grow in her mind.

It got a bit more surreal as the night went on. Like watching a King hold court, she mused. Casey had a reputation that spanned all three departments – fire, police, and medical. He had friends in high places as well, most notably Sgt. Voight of Intelligence and Sharon Gooden, who was the Head Administrator at Chicago Med. Many of the other regulars who frequented Molly’s liked and respected him as well, enough to offer the courtesy of not coming over to fish for gossip, despite Dawson being as well known in her way as he was.

Herrmann, Cruz, Mouch, Ritter, Capp, Tony – even Chief Boden – had all glanced over when she and Casey had walked in together holding hands, but they hadn’t approached. Granted, Herrmann had been distracted with customers, and Cruz by Chloe, but all of the others had returned to their conversations and the serious business of blowing off a bit more steam before shift tomorrow morning.

She pushed her observations to the back of her mind as the guys exclaimed loudly at the tv, along with half of the bar. Letting herself get swept back into the present moment, she leaned her shoulder against Casey’s bicep, relaxing. He automatically responded, moving closer and shifting so she could lean into his chest, one hand moving to her hip to stabilize her on the tall stool. Content, she settled in to enjoy the rest of the evening.

They left after the game was over; Trubisky and his Bears thoroughly trouncing Baker Mayfield and the 0-6 Browns. It wasn’t anywhere near the rivalry game that the Bears-Packers matchup would be in a couple of weeks, but it was a decent game.

Casey had parked a couple of blocks away, so Brett huddled into his side as they walked through the brisk August night.

“Okay, this is ridiculous! How are you so warm right now? I’m freezing!”

He yelped, laughing, as she slipped her cold hands under his jacket and shirt to wrap around to his stomach. “I guess that’s what happens when you’re a smoke eater. You become part dragon,” he teased.

“Ridiculous,” she grumbled as they finally reached his truck, foregoing the seat next to the door for the one next to him and immediately replacing her hands under his shirt, just below his ribs.

“Dammit Brett!”

“Drive, Mister I’m part dragon.”

He shot her a warning look that she ignored, but still turned the heat vents her way before he pulled out into the silent street.

The drive home was only ten minutes. Brett immediately disappeared into her room as Casey fixed them both some hot chocolate. She reappeared a few minutes later, dressed in sweatpants, fuzzy socks, and a t-shirt that he recognized as possibly being his.

He considered her for a moment, before shaking his head fondly and going to his room. “Here.” He tossed her his old CFD hoodie, which had ‘Lt. Casey’ on the front in small script. “Better?”

She pulled it on, breathing in his familiar scent – tangy smoke mixed with the clean, fresh, slightly woodsy smell of his cologne and the fainter neutral scent of the detergent preferred by the firehouse. “So much. Thanks.”

Following him over to the living room area, she accepted her mug with a murmur of thanks as she curled up in the armchair. They fell into a comfortable silence, savoring the warmth and sweetness of their late night treat.

“That was a very sneaky plan, baiting Foster and getting her approval, and then siccing her and Kidd on the rest of the guys to run interference.”

Casey blinked. “How did you – “

“I’ve watched and worked alongside you for over six years, Casey,” she said wryly. “You delegate and command and maneuver and strategize like playing chess. Always three moves ahead.” She raised her brows knowingly. “I came up with the silly idea of wearing your jacket to announce we’re dating, like we’re in high school or something, but the rest was all you. Don’t tell me that you didn’t walk into Molly’s tonight without a battle plan.” She smirked at his surprised expression, putting her mug down and moving next to him on the couch. “It was kind of hot, watching your mind work up close and personal like that.”

“Oh really?”

“Yep.” She kissed him, long and slow, before drawing back and standing up. “C’mon.”

Intrigued, yet confident that he could put a stop to things if they got too steamy, he followed her into his room. She shed the hoodie, and her socks, leaving her clad in his t-shirt and sweats.

“Sylvie.”

“Matt. All I want to do tonight is snuggle with my incredibly hot boyfriend, who also happens to be a human furnace,” she said, pulling back his covers and climbing into his bed. “So stop being so Matt Casey noble-ish and get in here. My feet are cold already.”

“I feel like I should be insulted that you are using me for my body,” he mused, finally sliding into bed facing her, making her snicker into his shoulder.

“I promise I will still respect you in the morning, Casey,” she yawned.

“That’s all I ask.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Casey and Brett return to work. Emily has a conversation with Casey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter to tide you over for the work week! Hoping I can get some writing in this week, but with the build up to the holiday weekend here in the States and the fact that we're still operating with limited staff, don't think it's going to happen. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Casey was gone when she woke up to her alarm the next morning. She was disappointed, but not truly surprised. Part of keeping things divided between personal and professional was resuming and maintaining normal routines and habits. But because she was still Sylvie Brett and worrying was practically encoded into her DNA, she spent the entire drive over thinking and imaging possible worse case scenarios.

There was no time to fret once she actually got to work though, because Ambo and Truck were almost immediately called out to an incident, ironically involving another Roman candle fireworks war. Gary’s friends hadn’t learned from his idiocy (the doctors at Med were able to reattach all of his fingers), although this time the victim had just lost his thumb.

Despite his best efforts, Casey got caught in the crossfire yet again, with a firework grazing the left side of his neck instead of the right.

He was waiting without prompting on the front bumper of his rig, again with that slightly glazed look that spoke to the pain that he wouldn’t admit to having. He eyed Brett warily as she approached, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“I’m having a serious sense of déjà vu.”

“Well, they say lighting doesn’t strike twice in the same spot. That apparently doesn’t apply to moronic idiots with fireworks and horrendously good – or bad -aim,” she replied wryly. “Next time call Engine for backup and have Herrmann turn the hose on them, Casey. Maybe that’ll teach ‘em.”

He grinned appreciatively as she put gentle fingers on his chin, obediently tilting his head so that she could see the wound better.

“Just a graze this time, but there’s some carbon debris in there. Again,” she said briskly, pulling out her supplies.

“Don’t suppose I could wash it out when –“

Her dimples flashing in amusement was his only warning before cool water hit his neck. “Or you can do it now,” he finished, unable to stop the instinctive shiver that ran through him, though training and hard control enabled him not to squirm under her hands.

She was ready with the terry cloth, gently soaking up the excess water and feeling his slightly narrowed gaze on her.

“This needs to stay clean and dry, and the bandage needs to be changed,” she said, echoing her instructions from the first incident, before going off book and allowing herself of a fleeting caress of his cheek, feeling the faint prickles of his stubble, before tapping lightly. “No shaving for a few days; it will just irritate the skin.”

“Sure.” He replied vaguely, knowing she would react to his noncommittal tone.

Sure enough, she immediately stopped to eye him suspiciously. “Are you going to actually listen to me this time?”

“I always listen to you.”

Unable to refute the warmly confident statement, she shot him a quick look from under her lashes, fighting not to blush under the unerringly direct and intense blue gaze. “Mm-hm,” she hummed, managing to keep the teasingly light tone.

The intimacy of the moment felt tantalizingly similar to one of their last conversations in the bunk room, before Kyle had proposed. Unlike that time however, she remained aware of their surroundings and all too interested audience carefully not paying attention, and avoided his gaze as she stepped away.

Casey let her get away with it – for now – signaling the others to pack it up, and ignoring Kidd’s smirk as she climbed into the driver’s seat. When they pulled in back at the house, he was quick to assign her and Gallo some drills; partly because the young rookie needed it, but mostly to keep her occupied and distracted. With Severride busy helping OFI with another case (with Boden’s blessing) there was no one really to offer another outlet for her heightened energy, and this way he knew where at least two of his firefighters were and what they were up to rather than plotting something on their own to alleviate their boredom.

He escaped to his office once they had settled in, taking advantage of the empty bunk room to leave his door open and finish the endless paperwork that was the part of being an officer that no one mentioned until after you were promoted.

He was frowning at the indecipherable chicken scratch that was Levi from 3rd shift’s handwriting, -was that a ‘h’ or a ‘4’?- when there was a light knock on the door frame and Foster poked her head in.

“You busy?”

Casey smiled warmly, gesturing for her to enter. “Never too busy for you,” he replied, turning to watch her as she moved to lean against the end of his bed. His smile faded as he noted the circles under her eyes and the slight frown marring her forehead. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Emily.”

She grimaced. “Nothing is wrong, precisely, just…I need some advice.”

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Shoot.”

“I want to go back to med school.”

Casey blinked.

“Actually, I re-applied to Northwestern already, and I have a meeting with the admissions board this week.”

He whistled, long and low. “Oh wow.”

“Yeah.” She winced.

“Well, congratulations. They don’t deserve you if they don’t immediately beg you to come back,” he said stoutly, standing up to give her a hug before leaning against his desk. “So what’s the problem? Besides the fact that we’re going to miss you like crazy around here.“ He cocked his head, realization hitting him at the same time that she said, “You’re the first one that I’ve told.”

“Emily!”

“I know, I know!” She cried. “I didn’t even know if they would accept my application, and I definitely didn’t think I would get a hearing this quickly! I didn’t want to say anything until I knew for sure!”

“Dammit, Foster,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. “You have got to talk to Sylvie. _Now_. As soon as you can,” he warned. “She’s had way too many partners bail on her without including her in their thought process or decision making, so if she hears about this from someone else – even or maybe especially me – she’s going to be hurt and feel betrayed. By both of us.”

She sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping. “You sure you can’t-“

“ _Emily_.” The exasperated tone and disappointed look was pure Captain Casey, her boss and friend and older brother all mixed into one. He threw in an admonishingly fond head shake, and it was enough to make her grimace guiltily, even as a part of her silently admired how easily he switched to Dad mode.

“Fine,” she grumbled. “You really have that whole paternal/older brother thing down to a fine art, seriously. You know that means that you are practically destined to have a daughter, right?”

He sucked in a sharp breath, keeping the smile with an effort. “The sad part is, I’m younger than nearly everyone here except you, Sylvie, Stella, Ritter, and Gallo,” he retorted sardonically. “Yet somehow Chief keeps expecting me to keep you miscreants in line.”

That made her grin, because she knew that he was more than willing to aid and abet the various pranks and mischief that she and the others got up to, and had in fact covered for them on numerous occasions when Chief Boden got wind of whatever they were plotting.

“Go talk to your PIC,” he ordered gruffly, pulling her into a brief hug. “Because this is happening. You’re going back to school one way or another, even if we have to get letters of recommendation from the entire staff at Med. You know Sylvie will write a hundred letters herself to support you too. You just have to _tell her_.”

“Yes, _Dad_ ,” Foster teased, not catching his slight flinch as she leaned into a second brief hug.

“Should I come back later?”

They both looked up to see Sylvie leaning against the doorframe, her brows raised, a half teasing, uncertain smile on her face as she raised her brows at them.

“Nope! My work here is done,” Foster replied brightly, her gaze suddenly full of mischief as she lightly bumped Casey away with her hip. “Sorry, but after going with you and Kidd last week for your last dress fitting for the wedding tomorrow, I had to do my ex pseudo boyfriend wingman type person a solid and spoil the surprise. You’ll thank me later. Right now though, we have some inventory and restocking in the Ambo to do, and we should probably get to it before we are interrupted, yeah?” She snickered at the identical looks that they sent her, holding up her hands in defense. “Or I could go start it myself,” she laughed. “If you’re not out there in ten minutes, I will be back though.”

“Duly noted.” Casey replied dryly, barely waiting until she had ducked out of the office before catching Sylvie’s hand and tugging her into the room with him with one hand, the other one already expertly pulling down the shades to the now locked door and the window beside it.

“Casey –“

That’s the only word she gets out before she’s being kissed breathless, large hands low on her hips, fingers spread and lightly gripping the meat of her ass, urging her up onto her toes to press closer into his body.

He pulled away first, but only long enough to smile down into her upturned face, his eyes sparkling with warmth and intimacy and happiness as he drops one last kiss on the tip of her nose. “I’m sorry that I was gone before you woke up this morning.”

He had been tempted, especially since his plans and intentions had all been interrupted by the cheerfully appalling timing of Severide yesterday morning. One of the first things that he had Sylvie had covered in the talking portion of their conversation though was to start as they meant to go on, and to keep work and home completely separate whenever possible. Still, he figured that she would forgive this lapse, once she heard him out.

“Mmm. Don’t let it become a habit,” she murmured. “Although, the only reason I got up was because my heat source had left, so maybe it was for the best.”

Casey chuckled softly, the sound felt more than heard. “I promise I will wake you up properly next time.” She made a soft sound of agreement in her throat, as. “I don’t know why you came in here, but I did want to talk to you really quick,” he continued after a moment. “About last night…” he paused for a moment, before a devilish smirk appeared. “Challenge accepted.”

She blinked, her gaze flying to his, which was dark with heated intent. “What?”

“I now know that I’m going to have to double, maybe even triple my efforts to scramble that incredible mind of yours, because whenever I do, it comes back twice as fearsome, and then you start not only thinking, but over thinking.” He was entertained and fascinated by the myriad of emotions that flashed across her expressive face as his meaning sunk in as he leaned down to lightly nip at her mouth, his hands urging her hips into alignment with his. She sucked in a sharp breath, her lashes fluttering slightly as he deliberately rocked into her, nice and slow. “We’re going to have to wait to indulge in that worthy goal until after the rest of this shift and Cruz’s wedding. Maybe after next shift too, because I have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

She licked her lips, feeling his hot gaze follow the motion.

“Just wanted to make you aware of that, since you’re going to be over thinking anyway,” he murmured. “Might as well be happy thoughts.”

She shook her head slowly in amazement. Oh, he was _good_. “It’s rude to gloat, Matt Casey.”

That earned her a grin in response as he reached behind her to unlock the door, before opening it and gently pushing her out. “You can yell at me later.”

He shut the door and deliberately turned the lock, listening hard. After a few seconds, he heard her begin to sputter and grumble and stomp away. His phone buzzed a few minutes later, making him laugh in delight as he read the message.

 _Casey, you two are dating now – don’t know you’re_ not _supposed to continue pulling the girl’s pigtails after she agrees to be your girlfriend?_

The text from Emily was punctuated by a rolling eyes and a laughing emoji.

_Seriously though, stop riling my partner up, especially when I already have a touchy topic to talk to her about! Which I’m about to do, but I wanted to actually follow through on the hint I dropped about her bridesmaid dress for tomorrow._

_Be sure to check out the accessories – or lack thereof – that go with the dress. 😉 You’re gonna owe me another raise, and I definitely want my own CFD leather jacket for Christmas. Just sayin’. It will be worth it, trust me._

***

The rest of the shift was busy enough that he didn’t see Brett again until the next morning in the locker room as they were getting ready to leave.

“Hey,” he greeted her warmly, his smile fading slightly as he noticed how tired she was. “Long shift?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, leaning against the lockers and closing her eyes for a moment. “For the record, giant fuzzy spiders with teeth do not make good pets under any circumstances, especially when they bite you in your sleep and you’re allergic to their venom.”

He grimaced, wrinkling his nose. “Yikes.”

“Mmm,” she yawned. “On the plus side, the wife was able to use the incident as an excuse to get rid of said fuzzy giant spiders with teeth and push her husband towards going to adopt a cute little puppy, although also with teeth. I suggested Butterfly for a name, but she didn’t get the reference.”

Casey laughed. “Not a Harry Potter fan?”

“Unfortunately not. The husband was big and hairy enough to make a pretty good Hagrid for Halloween though, which is a funny kind of extra irony.” Brett said, opening her eyes to look at him as he bent down to shoulder his bag. “Matt. Casey.”

Startled, he looked up at her stern tone, his eyes wide. Wide awake now, she was pointedly eyeing the bandage on his neck with a narrowed gaze. She was in full medic mode again, and wouldn’t appreciate any levity. Casey hid his grin for the second time. “I know, I know. I promise that it will be done as soon as I get home.”

She glared at his placating tone, not buying the innocent act for a second. “Or I could just clean it now,” she said, gesturing towards the bunk room as he straightened to his full height. “My bag is right in there. Just refilled the irrigation pouches too, so they’re nice and fresh.” And cold, since the water was in a special filtered cooler compartment of the ambo.

“That’s just mean, Brett,” he said, half admiringly.

“Like I said, if you don’t take care of it then I will.” She said mock seriously, turning to walk away.

Snagging her by the belt loop, he pulled her back towards him. “You threatening a superior officer?”

To his surprise, she let herself go with the momentum, bracing herself on his chest. They stared at each other for a moment, before her lips curled. “Casey, that’s not a threat…that’s a promise.” She purred, winking at him and once again slipping out of his grasp. His shoulders shook with laughter as he watched her saunter away.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Casey owes Foster another raise and a leather jacket. Chloe and Cruz get married. Julie goes into labor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm seriously going to miss Foster next season, but I hope that Sylvie and Stella grow closer as a result. Just because she's leaving 51 doesn't mean that she's leaving Chicago completely though, so there will still be more Foster&Casey scenes to look forward to in this story!
> 
> Anyway, couldn't resist giving you guys another chapter before the madness of the week starts. Enjoy!

“Hey neighbor.”

Brett turned to see Severride at his door, about to go in. “Hey,” she called, struggling slightly with the bags in her hand and the stubborn lock.

“How’re you liking your new digs?” He said, walking over to grab a couple of the bags so that she could get the door open. “Didn’t get a chance to check things out the other day.”

“C’mon in and see for yourself.” She offered, shouldering the door open and then bumping it with her hip. She continued straight to the kitchen island as he took a few steps and stopped, whistling.

“Wow.”

The apartment was huge, with exposed brick, high ceilings and dark wood floors instead of the cement finish that Severride had in his apartment. Casey had willingly let Brett take the lead on design and décor, and somehow she had found a combinations of things that suited his preference for clean lines and a minimal esthetic, while still combining her love of a more farmhouse, country style.

Plush, colorful rugs dominated the open floor plan, softening the strong industrial feeling of bricks and exposed piping in the ceiling. Plants hung in every corner, and a long, low bookshelf lined the large windows.

She had echoed Severride’s layout, choosing to have the large television with the screen facing the kitchen and a low, wide couch that didn’t obstruct the sight lines for most of the room. Two armchairs on either side of the coffee table, and a squishy looking comfortable recliner in the corner by the window and fireplace completed the main living space beyond the kitchen.

“Not too shabby, right?” She said as he wandered further in. “Casey built all the shelving, and is still muttering about the backsplash over the stove, so don’t be surprised if it is completely different next time.”

He hid his smile at how domestic she sounded, grumbling about her significant other and his ‘projects’. “It looks fantastic,” he replied, coming over to sit at the oversized island and counter.

“Thanks.” She flashed him a smile, turning to put the last of the groceries away. “You want a beer, or are you holding off until after the wedding tonight?”

“Nah, I’m straight. I’ll take a water though if you got it.”

She tossed him a water bottle, moving efficiently around the kitchen. “You want to stay for lunch? Casey had to stop by the commissary, but he should be home soon. I picked up a lasagna to bake because I’ve been craving Mama Tortellini’s for the past week. If you don’t stay, then I am not responsible for my actions.” She said dramatically. “If you get a call of a food coma patient in your building before he gets home…”

“So you’re saying that I should come back to protect you from yourself?” He said, amused.

“Exactly. Protect and serve, Severide.”

He snorted. “That’s CPD, Brett.”

“Are you staying for lunch or not?”

He grinned at her exasperated tone as he opened the door. “Yeah, I’ll be back. Give me thirty minutes.”

She nodded, pleased. “Food will be done in forty.”

Twenty minutes later, Casey walked in to an empty apartment. He could hear the shower going in Brett’s bathroom though, so she was home. Slightly disappointed, he headed to his own room for a shower.

Brett was in the kitchen when he wandered back out, pulling the food out of the oven to cool. She stood up and beamed at him, her cheeks flushed from the heat and looking absolutely at home in an old pair of sweats that hung low on her hips and a t-shirt that did nothing to hide the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“Hey! I picked up some lasagna on my way home, and it should be ready in – mmph!”

He swallowed her words with his mouth, chasing them with his tongue. She rose up on her toes, stretching up to meet up and pressing her body against his. She moaned, a hungry sound deep in her throat and he swallowed that too, tongues tangling and twisting around each other. All she could do was clutch at his shirt and try to keep up, her head swimming.

Casey had backed her into the counter somehow without her noticing. Now, he thrust one hard thigh between her legs, pinning her in place as he moved to run lips and tongue and teeth down her neck, finding her pulse point and lightly sucking.

“Casey,” she gasped, feeling his hands stroke over her hips and move to hem of her sweats, even as she dragged her nails down his chest. “Matt. Slow down.”

He instantly froze, opening his eyes to see her watching him, her own clear blue gaze filled with wry amusement and mischief. “Food’s almost ready,” she said, her dimple flashing. “You hungry?”

Casey stifled a groan, simultaneously entertained and pained by her teasing. “Starving,” he murmured, kissing the tip of her nose.

She nodded, turning in the circle of his arms to snag the two plates that she had already filled with food, along with two forks. She set one of the plates and forks next to them, cutting herself a piece from the first plate and blowing on it, teasingly offering it to him before popping it in her mouth.

He pressed his lips into the nape of her neck, teasingly nipping before resting his chin on her shoulder. “Why did you fix two plates if you’re just going to eat mine?”

She obligingly offered the next bite to him before cutting the next piece. There was a knock at the door, and her hand tightened on his arm, holding him in place. “It’s open,” she called.

Severride let himself in, ambling over to the counter.

“I was wondering if you’d be back,” she teased, before glancing at Casey. “I told Kidd that we would make sure that he ate something before he got ready for the wedding tonight, since she is helping Cindy wrangle the Herrmann herd.”

Ah. That explained why she had stopped him from devouring her instead of the food. “Not a bad idea,” Casey smirked at his friend, moving away from his girlfriend to get his own plate. “Might help soak up some more of the alcohol you are no doubt going to be indulging in tonight, with all the additional activities Cruz has planned. You’re slowing down in your old age, Sev.”

“I’m not the one growing a white shirt desk gut, Case.”

“Boys,” Sylvie groaned before Casey could retort. “Do not make me call Stella and have her challenge you both to a run on the obstacle course at the Academy. Of you three, remind me, who is the one who was leading multiple fitness classes while working her full shifts, and also kicked ass at the officers retreat a few weeks ago?”

The identical narrow eyed glares of insulted betrayal that they sent her in response had her scrambling for her camera to capture the moment amid her giggles. She sent the text to her friend, and received a SOS (Send Over Severide!) in reply that made her brows shoot up.

“Severide, you may want to check your phone,” she hinted, her shoulders still shaking with laughter. “Your lovely girlfriend is back home to get ready and is having a bit of a wardrobe malfunction that requires your specific assistance.”

“On it,” he replied instantly, and was out the door before Casey could draw breath to tease him.

Sylvie was still giggling as he followed in his friend’s wake to lock the door behind him. “Mmph, all I want is a couple of hours of sleep before we have to get ready for the wedding.”

“Couch or bed?” Casey replied, although inwardly he was frowning. It had been a relatively light shift, certainly well within her usual endurance limits despite the higher number of relatively minor nuisance calls that Ambo had endured. It certainly wasn’t enough to warrant how tired she still sounded.

Maybe it was the start of a summer cold, although he wasn’t going to mention that possibility quite yet. First responders were notoriously terrible patients, and not even sweet as sugar and sunshine Sylvie Brett was exempt from that stereotype. He would avoid saying anything with a ten foot pike pole until she started showing more definite symptoms.

“Bed,” she yawned, padding down the hallway to his room.

He couldn’t help the fond, slightly besotted smile as he followed in her wake, admiring the sway of her ass and hips as she climbed into his bed, pulling down the covers for them both, but only pulling the top sheet back up over him as he joined her.

“Can I trust you to keep your grabby hands to yourself?” he teased.

“I promise I won’t start anything I won’t finish.”

“Trouble,” he sighed, shaking his head as she settled in next to him. “You are complete and utter trouble, Sylvie Brett.”

“Your fault. Bad influence,” she mumbled sleepily. “Otherwise it’s Severide’s fault. ‘Cept when you get the bright idea to jump off of a five story building into the river.”

“It was his fault that we were up there in the first place.”

“Not the way he tells it.” Her lips quirked at his disgusted snort, before she let his steady breathing and heartbeat lull her to sleep.

They woke up before the alarm went off, but had no inclination to move.

“How’s Julie doing?” Casey said suddenly, absently running his fingers up and down her arm.

“She’s doing okay. Ready for this baby girl to make her debut already though,” Sylvie replied. “Thank you, by the way, for your suggestion to introduce her to Cindy and the other 51 wives and moms. She and Donna and Cindy have become thick as thieves, according to Herrmann. We’ve been invited over for a family barbeque sometime soon.”

Casey chuckled softly. “Herrmann’s idea of a family barbeque is to invite everyone over to distract the kids, while he and Boden and Mouch BS by the grill.”

“Cindy said that Luke is already talking about a rematch with Annabelle on the obstacle course that you and Stella built the last time?”

He grinned. “Oh, we are so having a rematch. Kidd is a dirty cheater who cheats.” She pinched his ribs gently, so he elaborated. “Luke wants to be a firefighter or a medic, and Annabelle still wants to be a cop since her junior ride along with Trudy. So we built a basic course – bucket brigade, step ladder carry, bandage the baby – and let them run it. Kidd and Annabelle won the first round, so me n’ Luke are determined to beat them this time.”

“Go Team Casey,” she teased as the alarm went off. “Time to go get beautified. You can leave the bandage off after you shower, but I still wouldn’t shave until tomorrow.” She scratched her fingers over his jaw, feeling the hint of prickles under his skin. “Chloe will just have to settle for the ruggedly handsome version instead of clean cut groomsman Casey.”

“I’m sure she won’t even notice.”

She watched him rise from the bed and pad into his bathroom, all long lean lines and lazy prowling grace, before throwing back the covers and retreating to her room for her own preparations.

Casey was in the kitchen when she wandered out, her midnight blue bridesmaid gown swishing softly around her.

“You mind zipping me up?” she called, turning her back to him.

He walked over to where she was standing, his gaze on the creamy expanse of skin revealed by the gown. He ran his fingers down her spine, enjoying the shiver that rippled through her.

“Sylvie Sunshine, my stunningly gorgeous girlfriend and light of my life, aren’t you missing something?”

She turned her head to look at him, her mouth dropping open in surprise at the endearment and question, only to gasp as he began to lay a line of nibbling kisses across her shoulders. “Missing something?”

“Mmhmm.” He sent both hands coasting under the gown and around front, cupping a heavy breast in each hand and lightly strumming her nipples with both thumbs. “Like a bra?”

She arched back into him with a moan, her head falling back onto his shoulder as he continued to tease and fondle with hands and lips. “Built in…to the dress,” she managed through a groan, as he nipped hotly at her earlobe and pinched her nipples again, drawing her up onto her toes with a gasp as arousal and wetness streaked through her like lightning.

“Interesting,” he drawled, widening his stance a bit to plant his feet more firmly and brace himself as she reached back, nimble hands finding his crotch and stroking his cock through his tuxedo pants before finding the button and zipper and fumbling it down.

“This is…mm, very counterproductive to us getting ready, Matt,” she gasped, her eyes nearly rolling back into her head as he caught his thumbs in the sides of her panties and pushed them down before doing the same to his pants and briefs.

He circled one strong arm around her waist as the material pooled down around her feet, lifting her completely free and stepping over to the back of the couch, one hand pressing gently between her shoulder blades as he urged her into bending over and spreading her legs as she braced herself, the other one holding and guiding his cock into her.

“Fucking hell, Sylvie,” Casey breathed, her little high pitched moans and wails like music to his ears as he slowly sunk in further, inch by inch. She was shaking beneath him, nearly vibrating with pleasure, her head dropped down, as she fought to catch her breath. “You feel so damn good.”

He knew she was on the pill – after the pregnancy scare with Antonio, she had become even more diligent about taking it – and he hadn’t been with anyone since Smart Girl, and had gotten a check himself recently for his own health reasons, so he knew they were both clean.

Reaching around her hip and down between her legs, he unerringly found her clit, rubbing it hard and fast. She threw her head back, her mouth dropping open on a surprised wail as his other hand found her nipple and pinched hard, sending her catapulting headlong into pleasure.

“Oh _God,_ oh my God. Matt, please, oh, please Matt-!”

He didn’t give her a chance to catch her breath or come back down from her orgasm, driving his cock into her with short steady strokes. She turned her head, wordlessly seeking his mouth as she exploded beneath him once more, her moan and his rough groan mingling together as he followed her over the edge.

They remained like that for a few moments, their breathing now the only sound filling the open space of the apartment.

“So,” Sylvie murmured, blowing her hair out of her face as she slumped against him, nearly boneless with pleasure. “Does this count as hooking up with a groomsman at a friend’s wedding?”

Casey snorted as she raised her brows at him, her eyes bright with laughter. “Well, on the wedding day, anyway. That should be enough to mark it off your bucket list.”

They exchanged mischievous, pleased grins as they untangled themselves and carefully avoided the crumpled clothing to return to their bathrooms to clean up. Casey retrieved the dress and her underwear, laughing when she opened her door just enough to accept both items before closing it firmly in his face.

When they met again in the living room they were both fully dressed and presentable, although Sylvie was still holding up her dress.

“Want some help?” He offered cheekily, holding up his hands in mock defense when she eyed him warily. “I promise to be on my best behavior.”

Shaking her head in fond amusement, she turned to present her back to him, relieved and disappointed when he found the hidden zipper and drew it upwards, placing his lips on the nape of her neck for a moment before drawing away. The absentminded tenderness and unexpected sweetness of the gesture rippled through her body and heart and takes her breath away. He doesn’t notice, having already moved away to gather their coats and open the door for her. She doesn’t mention it, simply smiles and precedes him out the door.

***

The wedding ceremony itself was beautiful. Cruz and Chloe had spared no expense, creating a day that was an exquisite and joyful celebration of their love.

The formal reception was at the Chicago Hotel, which was the only venue big enough to accommodate all of their extended family and friends. However, they could only afford a two hour block, so the ‘after party real celebration!’ as Herrmann called it, regrouped at Molly’s later that evening.

This gathering was limited to first responders and their immediate families, giving those from other houses and other departments a chance to drop by and congratulate the happy couple. Most admittedly were there for Cruz, but Chloe quickly charmed them over and was quickly claimed as family after she gave as good as she got when it came to outrageous antics and flirting.

Jackets and ties had been shed, heels long since discarded under the table. Sylvie curled up in her chair, resting her head on Casey’s shoulder, her hip pressed against his as she snuggled into his side, lazily listening to Severide and Capp tease Cruz about some mishap on a Squad call.

“This just gets more and more interesting,” Casey’s deep voice rumbled in her ear, bright with laughter. “Sunshine, your dress is vibrating.”

She snickered, sitting up and pulling her phone out of the hidden pocket.

“Wait. So it has material for pockets, but not—”

“Hi Julie!” She said cheerfully, even as she covered her smirking boyfriend’s mouth so he couldn’t finish his observation. “Is everything okay?” She sat up straighter at her mother’s response, meeting Casey’s gaze. “Eight minutes apart, huh? Sounds like baby girl is ready to make her debut early.”

The others were quiet now, listening.

“Rafferty and Chout are on their way? Perfect. We will meet you at Med then. Do you want me to grab anything on the way?” She nodded. “Okay. I’ll tell him. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

She hung up, shooting Cruz and Chloe a rueful smile. “Looks like you’ll be sharing your wedding anniversary with my baby sister’s birthday,” she told them as she stood up.

“That’s okay. Just means more cake for everyone. Right, Mouch?” Chloe teased, to his enthusiastic agreement and everyone’s laughter.

Casey shrugged his jacket on as she found her heels and purse. “Do we have time to go home and change?” He asked hopefully, but she shook her head.

“Contractions are coming fast. You can drop me off at Med and then run home though, if you want – “

“Or you guys go, and we’ll run home, change, grab clothes and shoes, and meet you at Med,” Severide interjected firmly as Stella nodded.

“We’ll be there too, just as soon as we check in on the kids,” Herrmann added. “Foster, you good with closing and cleaning up?”

“Got it covered,” she called, waving them away.

Casey and Sylvie exchanged a look, a bit amused and bemused at how efficiently and completely their friends had taken over.

“Okay then. Let’s go welcome your sister into the world.”

***

Maggie, ever efficient and all-knowing head nurse in the ED, greeted them and directed to room 248 up in the Maternity Ward before they could even ask.

“Sylvie!” Julie’s face lit up as her daughter came over to kiss her hello. “And Matt, of course. I should have expected.”

“Hey Julie,” Casey smiled. “How’re you feeling?”

“Very pregnant,” she answered wryly, turning her cheek up expectantly. He obediently leaned down to peck her on the cheek, having learned that she was just as physically affectionate as her daughter.

Sylvie had taken the only chair, so he went to lean against the wall next to her, feeling Julie’s gaze sharpen.

“So,” she said, raising her brows at her daughter. “I’m assuming that you two finally decided to resolve the UST and that’s why I haven’t heard from you in three days.”

Casey coughed loudly, hiding his grin as Sylvie sputtered. “Julie!”

“What? Mother’s intuition always knows, sweetheart.” Julie’s gaze was bright with mischief as she winked at Casey. “I’m not getting any younger, you know. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to ask for grandchildren before I turn 50. Give your sister some cousins to grow up with.”

“Oh my God! Julie! Stop,” Sylvie groaned, burying her face in her hands and Casey snickered next to her. She raised her head to glare at him. “Do not be getting any ideas.”

“Sylvie, we’ve been dating for three days. I promise that I will wait until at least our one month anniversary before I go ring shopping,” he replied solemnly. “But for the record, you’re a size 8, right?”

She squinted at him, unable to tell if he was teasing or not. He merely twinkled back at her, not admitting anything one way or another as he held her gaze for a moment.

She waited for the usual feeling of dread and panic to rise up, and was more worried by the _absence_ of either emotion than she would have been if she had felt them. Because most women would have panicked at even the teasing suggestion of getting married after dating for a month. Right?

Julie winced, sucking in a sharp breath as another contraction hit. “Looks like baby girl is getting impatient again,” she noted, gritting her teeth. “You were a week overdue.”

“Being impatient is definitely a Winters thing, not a Brett trait,” Casey said wryly, nudging Sylvie. “Come out into the cold bright world, or stay where it’s warm and quiet. No contest.”

“Shut up,” she laughed. “You’re right, but still.”

Julie joined their laughter, only to be interrupted by another contraction.

“I’ll go let your doctor know. Severide and Stella are outside anyway,” Casey said, leaning down to kiss Sylvie on the top of her head. “I’ll be back.”

She nodded, watching him walk away.

Downstairs, he found his friends waiting and talking quietly. Severide was the first to sense him and jerked his head in acknowledgement as Casey drew closer. “How’s Julie?”

“Very, very pregnant and feeling it,” he replied wryly, accepting the bags of clothes. “Thanks for this. You guys don’t have to stick around – “

“Julie is family. Of course we’re staying,” Stella snorted. “Go change. What room is she in?”

He wisely decided not to argue. “241.”

When he returned, things had escalated. Julie ws going into surgery for a C-section, and the doctor had sent Sylvie to the waiting room. Stella had pulled her over to the corner to have a private conversation, but Casey didn’t hesitate to intrude, pulling his girl into his arms and feeling her tremble with worry and exhaustion.

“Sylvie. Go change so Kidd can take this stuff home to be dry cleaned,” he ordered gently. “I will be right here if anything changes.”

She stiffened in his arms like she was going to protest before slumping, letting Stella lead her away. Casey sank into a chair with a groan, feeling Severide silently take the chair next to him.

They knew this routine too well, and resignedly settled in to wait, shoulder to shoulder. The girls returned after a few minutes and joined them, tense and quiet. The others trickled in slowly, offering a murmured greeting before claiming a chair or a corner to pace in, according to their nature.

It was well after midnight when Julie’s doctor came to find Sylvie, looking tired and wan. Only she and Casey were still there, since Casey had convinced everyone else to go home and get some sleep for a few hours.

Sylvie sucked in a sharp breath at the doctor’s appearance, gripping Casey’s arm hard, nails digging into his skin. “How are they?”

“Mother and baby are doing just fine,” Dr. Ptropheski answered gently, as they breathed silent sighs of relief. “However, it was a difficult surgery, for them both. I made the decision to keep Julie sedated, in order to give her a chance to rest and heal. It will only be for a couple of days, and then we would like to keep her here under observation for a few more days after that, just in case, before we send them both home. It will also give Amelia a chance to gain some weight and get a bit more acclimated to the world before we send her out into it.”

Sylvie closed her eyes for a brief moment before she nodded reluctantly. “Thank you, doctor. Can we see them?”

“You can poke your head in to see Julie, but just for a moment. Visiting hours are over, even for family, and you all need your rest. I promise, you can see them both tomorrow morning, first thing.” The doctor softened the warning with a commiserating smile, lightly squeezing Sylvie’s arm before taking her leave.

They did as she bid, returning to Julie’s room long enough to confirm with their own eyes that yes, she was alive and sleeping peacefully, before Casey gently urged Sylvie downstairs and out to his truck.

Severride and Stella had the foresight to bring them comfortable clothes that were good for sleeping in no matter where they were, so it was a simple matter of slipping off their shoes before climbing into bed. Sylvie curled into Matt’s side, seeking his warmth as always and his strength and solid presence, even as she finally succumbed to her exhaustion and worry. Casey stayed awake until he was sure she was asleep, protecting her the only way he knew how and making plans for the morrow, before finally giving in to his own slumber and exhaustion.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julie wakes up, and Brett and Casey discover a surprising piece of information regarding Amelia...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh WOW - it's been so long since I've logged in that I nearly forgot my password for AO3! Anyway, HI! I know it's been a really long time, but well, #2020. 
> 
> The good news is that I have a couple of chapters typed up and ready to go, and a few more that need to be typed up, so hopefully I can get back into a consistent posting schedule, between this weekend and the holiday weekend coming up next week.
> 
> Enjoy the new chapter!

The next day was shift, so there was really no time to worry about Julie or the baby. Summer was in full effect, which meant plenty of calls for the entire house. The night ended with 51 responding to a club fight turned riot. The combinations of hot days and relentless nights, short tempers, and the growing rumbling undertone of racial civil unrest finally came to a head. The catalyst was a confrontation between two guys; one black, one white – and the girl that they were both sleeping with. It took the combined efforts of CPD and CFD to restore order and sort out the injured parties. Luckily, the worst wounds were bruises to egos and minor scrapes and cuts, so 61 was able to patch onsite without having to do a run to Med. Brett privately wasn’t sure if she was grateful for the distraction or disappointed by the missed opportunity to sneak up and visit Julie, but didn’t mention it to Casey or Foster.

The only silver linings during the shift was Cruz’s obvious newlywed bliss, and Foster’s official announcement to the house of her intention to return to med school in the fall. That still gave Boden three months to find a suitable replacement for Ambo 61, without making Brett suffer through the trial and error period that she had gone through in her search to find Foster in the first place.

51 had been overjoyed for the young paramedic, though Ritter and Gallo both moped around like scolded puppies every time Foster mentioned her departure.

“C’mon you guys,” she groaned. “I’m not moving away; you just won’t see me here at 51. I’m staying in my apartment, and I’ll still work at Molly’s; can’t afford not to. I’ll still see everyone.”

All in all, it was still a long shift, but Casey knew that Sylvie wouldn’t be able to settle down until she had seen that her mother and baby sister were alive and well with her own eyes. So, instead of turning out of the firehouse towards home, he hung a right out of the parking lot and began the familiar trek to the hospital. Sylvie didn’t protest, merely reached over to grab his hand as he drove in silent thanks, entwining her fingers with his and leaning her head against the window to try to rest her eyes for during the few minutes of travel time.

When they arrived at the hospital, they headed straight for the ED rather than the main entrance. Partly out of habit, partly because they knew the layout of the hospital better from that entrance than they did from the main doors, and mostly to get the direct scoop from Maggie. Technically, her main territory was the ED, but she had personally trained at least one nurse or attendant in nearly every major department at some point, and they all still unofficially reported back to her.

As they had half expected, Maggie greeted them the moment they walked in. “I hear that congrats are in order for you two, your mom, and your entire firehouse!” she said cheerfully. “Romance and weddings and babies, oh my!” She pointed a stern finger at Casey. “You make sure you treat my girl right, Matthew Casey. She’s a medic; she knows how to put you together, so she damn sure knows how to take you apart.”

He widened his eyes in exaggerated alarm as he looked at his girlfriend. “Why do all of your friends immediately go right to violence and maiming?” he complained dryly. “Is this a medical professions thing, or a friend-of-Sylvie-Brett thing?”

“Definitely a Sylvie Brett thing,” April answered for Maggie as she passed by, not missing a beat. “We’ve all been suckered by that innocent face, so she has intel on all of us that we don’t want to get out. Protect the medic; protect the world.”

Casey eyed Sylvie as she did her best to look innocent. “This was definitely not disclosed in the imaginary dating contract.”

That made her laugh. “It was in the fine print. Clause M, Section 243, Part 5c. You must’ve missed it.”

“Uh huh.”

“You two are so cute already that you’re making me kind of nauseous,” Maggie teased, waving them away as her pager went off. “Go take that somewhere else.”

“Yes, Maggie,” Sylvie replied obediently with a grin. “Now that you’re finished mothering me, may I go see my actual mother and meet my baby sister?”

The other woman had already started to turn away, but she paused with a frown at the blonde’s teasing question. “You haven’t seen her? I thought that- “She hesitated, her smile disappearing. “I don’t know your mother, but please tell her congratulations, and if she needs anything – resources, assistance, or even a sympathetic ear – I am willing to help.” She offered a tight smile when they looked confused. “Chicago is a diverse and relatively open-minded city, but she won’t have an easy path, especially as a single mother in this day and age, raising a– “She stopped again. “Go visit your sister first, and then check in with your mom. According to her chart, she improved enough to bring her up out of sedation early this morning, so she should be awake and coherent within the hour. Just know that the offer stands, if your mother needs it, okay?”

Alarmed, they did as she bid, rushing up to the NIC viewing window and peering anxiously inside.

“Matt, I don’t- “Sylvie began, only to freeze, sucking in a sharp breath.

Amelia was sleeping peacefully in a bassinet towards the middle which was marked as ‘Winters’ rather than Brett, and partially explained why Sylvie hadn’t immediately spotted her. She was dressed warmly in a soft pink onesie and matching cap, which had nearly come off in her sleep, revealing a thatch of raven black curls. Her dark eyelashes, long for a newborn, fluttered slightly and opened, revealing hazy, unfocused glint of blue, bright and startling against almond colored skin and pale pink fingernails.

“Guess we know the full reason why Scott left now,” Casey murmured after a moment, still in shock, as the baby yawned and settled back down into slumber.

“Yeah,” Sylvie murmured distractedly, her mind racing as she stared at her baby sister. “Why would she keep this from me?”

Casey didn’t answer, pressing his lips to her hair in silent comfort as they watched innocent baby sleep with not a care in the world. They were both peripherally aware of the dangers, threats, attitudes and situations that their friends and coworkers – Cruz, Kevin Atwood in Intelligence, multiple friends there at the hospital and throughout the CFD, as well as Stella and Emily – had encountered because of the color of their skin. Maggie’s offer and warning now made more sense.

Sylvie’s eyes closed in pain and sorrow. “She’s so pure and beautiful, Matt,” she breathed. “How could anyone hate her?”

“We’ll deal with that if and when it comes,” he answered resolutely. “Sylvie, that little girl in there has an entire extended built in family of uncles, aunts, grandparents and cousins to protect and love her. And that’s not even counting your actual family. She’s going to grow up with more love than she’ll ever know what to do with, which will far outshine anything else that she may encounter.” He rubbed his hands soothingly up and down her arms as she leaned into him, seeking comfort. “Besides, she’s got you for a big sister and she’s got Julie for a mother. How could she not grow up to be just as fierce and strong and beautiful as you both?”

Moved to tears, she leaned up to kiss him, achingly sweet and gentle. “Thank you for being you, Matt Casey,” she whispered against his lips, before reluctantly pulling away. “C’mon. Let’s go meet my baby sister.”

“Why don’t we go check on Julie first, and see what she says,” he countered gently. “Maybe there’s a perfectly logical explanation for all of this.”

She bit her lip before nodding reluctantly. He had a point, and besides that, she didn’t feel right about meeting Amelia without her mother there.

With one last longing glance at the window, she let Casey pull her away.

***

“Julie!”

To their surprise and pleasure, Julie was indeed awake and sitting up when they walked in. She looked wan and exhausted, but still managed a tired smile, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her daughter.

“Sylvie. Oh, my darling, you have no idea how good it is to see you.” The two exchanged a long, heartfelt hug as Casey watched, a bit wistfully, from the sidelines.

Sylvie pulled away after a moment, taking the only chair in the room as Casey leaned on the wall behind her. The older woman studied them thoughtfully.

“You’ve seen Amelia.” She stated quietly.

They exchanged a brief look, not knowing quite how to respond to the blunt charge.

“It’s okay. I was planning to tell you before she was born; I just never found the right time,” she said with a sigh, settling into the pillows.

“It’s really none of our business,” Sylvie began anxiously. “You don’t have to – “

“It is absolutely your business. You’re my daughter, and her sister, and her guardian if something happens to me,” Julie interrupted firmly, frowning as her daughter looked surprised. “Unless you don’t want to – “

“No! I mean, yes, of course, I will absolutely be her secondary guardian!” Sylvie exclaimed. “But I had thought that her father – “

Julie shook her head sadly. “Derek is a good man. He has a job and a life. I won’t disrupt it by telling him that he has a child.”

“With all due respect, don’t you think that should be his choice?” Casey broke in hotly. “She is just as much his as she is yours, right now. Don’t take away his options or opportunities – or responsibilities – because you assume to know what his reactions will be.”

She was startled by his vehemence but rallied. “He’s not prepared – “

“Again, that’s not up to you to decide!” He snapped, feeling the cold fingers of déjà vu creep up his spine. This was exactly like Gabby and Louie; Gabby had just arbitrarily decided that Casey wasn’t ready to take on the responsibilities of being a father because he hadn’t been instantly and enthusiastically on board with her impulse decision to foster the boy. No matter that he had never outright shut down the idea; merely pointed out the reality of their situation at the time, which was that they had dangerous jobs, a less than ideal schedule, and other commitments (like being Alderman, which had been _her_ idea) that they had needed to resolve first.

All of that had boiled down to “Casey, you’re not ready. You have to want this. I can’t force you into wanting to have a family with us.”

That had been a breaking point, though he hadn’t realized it then. Gabby had made the decision to exclude him without ever giving him the opportunity to try. And now here was another woman, a mother, callously making that same decision and leaving another potentially good man out in the cold and darkness.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to rein in his anger and bitterness enough to focus on the present. “Julie, you trusted this man to be intimate with him nine months ago, yet you don’t trust that he will do the right thing and want to be in his daughter’s life, no matter how it might disrupt his current situation, so you aren’t even going to give him the choice?”

“Casey – “

“I just don’t understand that logic! If you can call it that! I didn’t understand it with Gabby, and I don’t understand it now. And I’m sorry, but I can’t stand here and listen while you deny another one of your daughters the chance to know her parent. I just can’t.” Shaking his head in disgust, he headed for the door. “I need some air.”

“Matt – “

He strode out before Julie could do more than call after him, not quite slamming the door on the way out. The older blonde looked worriedly at her daughter. “Shouldn’t you go after him?”

Sylvie grimaced, her instincts and loyalties at war with each other. “No.” she said finally. “I’m going to give him some time to cool down, although we will talk about this at home.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Matt’s ex made a habit of making big decisions and leaving him out of them. Both times involved children, so it’s a really sore subject. The first was about adoption, but without getting married because she didn’t want to change the status quo. The second time was when she wanted to get pregnant but was told by her doctor that doing so would endanger her life.”

“But if they weren’t married – “

“They were, by that point. Things fell apart even farther after that, and they never recovered. He stayed in Chicago and she went down to Puerto Rico to help out with the relief effort, and never came home. Her ex was also asked to volunteer, and now they are married, and she is pregnant.”

“Dammit.” Julie sighed. “No wonder Matt reacted the way he did. Poor guy.” She shot Sylvie a rueful look. “And he does have a point.”

“Yeah, he does,” she agreed, taking her mother’s hand. “But Julie, your reasoning was still sound as well, and in the end, it is ultimately up to you. And I know that you are going to do what’s best for my baby sister.” She offered a slightly rueful smile. “Like you ultimately did for me.”

Julie returned the smile, squeezing her hand in wordless thanks and soaking up the silent comfort and acceptance that Sylvie radiated like sunshine.

“I know this is obviously a touchy subject, but I’m guessing from Matt’s history that you haven’t told him yet about your own health complications and restrictions when it comes to having children?” She inquired delicately. That delicateness melted into exasperation when her daughter winced and glanced away guiltily. “Sylvie! That man was smitten with you when I first met you both, he is certainly at least ¾ in love with you now, and you’ve only been together for a week! You can’t avoid this for much longer, sweetheart, not if you truly want to have a future with him, and especially not after what you just told me,” she warned. “Talk to him, soon. Before something happens to force the situation before you’re ready.”

“I know!” Sylvie groaned, standing up to pace. “But it’s like you said; we’ve literally been dating for a week! We haven’t even gone out on an actual date, not really!”

“Well, it’s not like you two have done anything else in the traditional order either,” Julie pointed out. “For heaven’s sake, you moved in with the man before you started dating!” She pointed a stern finger in admonishment. “And do not even try to tell me that you were ‘just friends’!” she scolded. “You and Joe Cruz are “just friends”. You and Matt were inevitable, and you know it.”

Sylvie plopped back into her chair with a huff, pouting. “I don’t think that I like this whole motherly advice thing when you’re right,” she grumbled, making Julie laugh. Pulling out her phone, she pressed ‘2’ for Casey’s speed dial, frowning as it rang multiple times before going to voicemail. “He must’ve gone downstairs; reception can be spotty in the hospital…” she frowned. “Guess you’re stuck with me for a little while longer.”

“A burden that I will gladly bear anytime,” Julie smiled, settling back into her pillows.

They turned the conversation to more general topics, enjoying the moment of mother daughter bonding, despite the chaos of the morning.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella and Severide go to pick up Casey and Brett from the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More scenes than a full chapter, but I'm trying to get back into the rhythm of posting again, so enjoy! Some of the questions that were asked in earlier reviews will be addressed in the next couple of chapters :)

“Hey Stella. Did you grab the extra phone charger?” Severide called, glaring at the mess on top of his dresser. “I can’t find mine anywhere – “

“Yes, Kelly. I grabbed it yesterday, remember? It was in the first bag of stuff that we brought to the hospital,” she replied from the doorway, leaning against the frame. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing. I’m fine,” he snapped, scowling. “Let’s go.”

She eyed him warily as he stalked past her but didn’t push. Knowing him, it was likely his intense dislike of hospitals that was affecting his mood and making him irritable, even though they were going in support of Brett and Casey more than for Julie herself. Just the idea of going to the hospital was still a bit of a trigger for her strong, stoic, stubborn firefighter boyfriend. Just because she understood the reasoning behind it didn’t mean that she wasn’t going to smack him if he didn’t stop growling at her though.

She remained calm on the drive over, meeting his increasing surliness with cheerful teasing. By the time they had parked, however, her smile had turned to gritted teeth and her teasing had given way to tense silence. When he turned to get out of the car, she jerked him back in to give him a bit of a reality check and a verbal smack upside his head.

“Look, Kelly. I get that you don’t like hospitals but snap out of it! Let it go! We aren’t here for you. We’re here for Brett, and a bit for Casey. No one that we directly know is injured or dying today,” she scolded. “So, here’s what’s going to happen now. We are going to go inside and check up on our friends and try to convince their stubborn asses to come home to sleep before shift tomorrow. Rafferty is available to cover for Sylvie if she needs to, but Chief made it clear that he can’t have two of his three officers out at the same time. That means that Casey needs sleep, a shower, food and a shave. Not in that order. So. You get Brett, and I’ll go get Casey.”

Severide’s blue gaze cleared as he refocused on her. “Wait. Why not the other way around?”

She snorted. “Because Casey will take one look at you and start arguing for the sake of arguing, and while poking at each other makes you both feel better when one of you is off balance, we don’t have time for all of that,” she replied knowingly. “Don’t argue, you know that I’m right and you two are weird.”

She released his collar as he harrumphed, allowing him to resume exiting the vehicle. They strolled over to the main entrance, checking in with the front desk before heading upstairs.

“Casey won’t argue with me,” Stella continued as they walked. “And you’re Brett’s self-appointed big brother. You also outweigh and out muscle her. I’m sure you can handle one grumpy and tired mini blonde.”

Severide grunted, the sound one of amusement. “She fights dirty. And she bites,” he mock complained, though they both heard the pride in his voice. Like Casey and Foster had turned out to be, Brett and Severide had become another odd couple friendship that somehow just worked, once they (he) decided to give it a try and put some effort into it. Stella was privately highly amused by it all, if a bit jealous, and had recently decided to adopt Ritter as her very own pseudo best friend wingman younger brother type person. She just hadn’t informed him of the fact. Yet.

“You’re just going to have to charm and persuade then. Tough luck,” she teased. “Brett is probably the one formerly single woman in Chicago who has never been beguiled by you.”

They reached Julie’s room before he could retort, knocking twice and stepping quietly into the room when no one answered.

Sylvie was curled up in the chair next to her mother’s bed, her head lolled over to one side at an angle that made Severide wince.

“She’s going to be feeling that later,” he noted, moving over to the blonde to wake her up. “I’ll get her home. Casey should be back soon, I would assume. You good with driving his truck if he can’t, or do you want me to wait?”

“Uh, which one of us has their CDL, thank you very much?” she snorted, leaning up to kiss him before shoving him lightly away. “Casey’s truck is a matchbox car compared to 81. I’ll be fine.”

The blonde was well versed to waking up instantly to full awareness, so it didn’t take long for her to get her bearings, despite Severide’s unorthodox bedside manner.

“Blondie, I have absolutely no problem hauling your cute little ass over my shoulder and out of this hospital,” he was warning as Stella snickered and settled back near the doorway to watch the show. “But I’ll play nice. If you can open those baby blues and unkink your neck long enough to make it to the door without wincing or showing any signs of pain, then you can walk out on your own. Otherwise you’re riding in the chair or over my shoulder.”

Brett, of course, called his bluff and her surprised yelp of pain followed the brunette down the hall.

Stella left them to it as the sounds of their playful bickering faded away. She hadn’t bothered to make her presence known or ask her friend where Casey had disappeared to, since she had a pretty solid idea. There was really only one thing that could pull him away from Sylvie’s side, especially in a hospital. Her Captain had just as many issues with hospitals as Severide did, for a lot of the same reasons.

Her hunch was spot on. She found Casey sprawled in the rocking chair in the corner of the nursery, with a tiny pink bundle curled protectively into his neck and shoulder, her fingers kneading the material of his shirt like a kitten.

“Oh man,” Stella thought, taking in the scene of domestic bliss before her. “Brett honey, you need to give this man some babies, soon.”

Unable to resist, she snapped a quick picture with her phone, even as her curiosity nearly overwhelmed her with the urge to shake Casey awake and demand exactly why he was holding random babies instead of his girlfriend’s baby sister.

“I’m not falling asleep with a random stranger’s baby on my shoulder, so you can stop that train right now,” he said without opening his eyes.

Stella yelped in surprise, quickly clapping a hand over her mouth before she woke the baby. “How did you – “

“I’m a firefighter, Kidd. If I can navigate a two story house in zero visibility during a rolling house fire, then sensing when someone familiar is in the room is also well within my capabilities,” he replied dryly as she moved so that he could see her better so that he didn’t have to turn his head. “Plus, you think really loudly.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, true.” She conceded, coming closer. “So that is Amelia, then? But she’s – “

“Julie’s, but very definitely not Scott’s.” Casey finished as she trailed off.

She could tell by the undercurrents swirling in his tone that there was a lot more to the story, but she didn’t push, and he didn’t elaborate.

“I take it that you got roped into lunch duty since mama is still recovering from bringing little miss into the world?” She teased instead, changing the subject.

Casey flushed slightly. “About a week after Sylvie left, Emily dragged me down here. She told me that she was tired of my moping and grouchiness, and that she had the ultimate cure for both.”

“She brought you here to volunteer.” Stella grinned.

He nodded, automatically adjusting Amelia as she began to squirm in her sleep, one large hand rubbing gentle soothing circles on her back. “They are always looking for male volunteers, because otherwise a lot of the babies that are given up for adoption don’t have any sort of male presence or interaction in their life at this age and stage. All they usually hear is female voices. You don’t have to do much, since the staff takes care of everything. But Emily was right; it’s hard to stay mad at life when you’re holding it in your arms.”

Stella really, really wanted to give him a hug, but she refrained. Barely. The fact that her intensely private boss and friend had willingly shared and opened up to her like this, for something so deeply personal, was a huge moment and honor for her. To acknowledge or mention it at all would only embarrass him further though, so she merely nodded silently.

“Kelly texted you a while ago, and when you didn’t answer he figured you were both here at the hospital and needed to be herded home,” she said finally. “He took Brett already, so you’re stuck with me. You nearly ready to go?”

He craned his neck to peer down at the bundle of sleeping baby still nestled into his shoulder. “She’s already so much like her sister that it’s scary,” he noted fondly. “Let me get her back to one of the nurses and then we can go.”

Stella poked her head out into the other area where the attendant was to let them know while he carefully returned Amelia back to her crib. She waited patiently as he gazed down at the newborn for a moment, his face unreadable in the low light, before shaking himself briskly and walking over to her. She couldn’t resist slinging a friendly arm over his shoulders as they headed back downstairs to the parking lot, but let it drop as they split to their respective sides of the truck.

The drive home was in peaceful silence, with neither one feeling the need to chatter on. Stella hip bumped Casey companionably in farewell and headed over to her apartment, sneaking a glance over her shoulder to make sure that he had disappeared before heading inside her own home.

**

Casey hesitated slightly, taking a deep breath, before pushing the door open and walking into the apartment.

Sylvie glanced up in surprise from where she was lounging on the couch, idly messing around on her tablet. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

Okay, the awkwardness was kind of adorable, but equally ridiculous and totally out of character. She could also tell by his slightly defensive posture that he was braced for a fight or argument of some sort, which wasn’t her style at all.

Deliberately taking her time, she set the tablet down and stood, her expression blank as she walked towards him, stopping when they were toe to toe. They eyed each other warily for a moment before she huffed.

Casey froze as her arms slid around his waist as she snuggled in close, resting her cheek on his chest and closing her eyes. After a moment, she felt his arms come around her and tighten as he exhaled, burying his face in her hair. They stood like that for a moment, feeling the world spin on its axis before slowly righting itself.

“There. Now I can go back to being mad at you,” she mumbled petulantly. “You left and I got woken up by Severide, again. He’s a big bully of a jerk and next time I’m gonna punch him if he startles me like that again."

She felt his surprised laugh, which he quickly turned into a cough.

“Sorry.”

She harrumphed as he smiled into her hair. “I would ask you where you disappeared to, but Stella sent me a picture.“ She pulled away enough to show him the photo her friend had sent of him and Amelia, both fast asleep in the rocking chair. “Not even two days old, and my sister is already encroaching on my territory!” She poked him in the chest, struggling to keep a stern expression.

He smiled slowly. “Your territory, huh?”

She narrowed her eyes at his smugly doting tone, pointing an admonishing finger. “Do not even try it, Matthew Casey. You are not kissing and distracting me out of my mad this time, no matter how many cute pictures of you and my baby sister that Stella sends to me.”

He held his hands up in defense. “I didn’t even plan on it, honestly,” he said wryly. “I just went for a walk to cool down, and the attendant recognized me. I volunteer occasionally in the NIC unit, so she knew that I was approved to be in there. She was swamped and Amelia was one of the babies crying, so I offered to get her calmed down.” He shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “I had just gotten her to sleep when Stella came in.”

Sylvie was disappointed when he didn’t elaborate further but didn’t push it, hoping that he would eventually come to trust her enough to volunteer the background story behind that bit of casually revealed information.

She also decided to hold off on talking to him about what she and Julie had discussed until he gave a sign that he did truly trust her with more personal, intimate things like this. Maybe it was a bit selfish, but she was feeling a bit like an open (audio) book compared to him over the past few months. Julie and her surprise pregnancy, Hope and Kyle’s engagement, and her past relationships were just a few of the topics that they had covered, yet she honestly still knew only the bare basics about Casey himself, despite having worked with the man for eight years.

Still, there was no need to point it out and spark a potential argument, so she put on her sternest face again and poked him in the shoulder before draping her arms around his neck, stretching up on her toes.

“Don’t you be sneaking in and stealing my spot as my sister’s favorite person, Matt Casey,” she teased. “That’s _my_ snuggle spot, thank you very much.”

He grinned wolfishly, his hands dropping down to her hips to support her as she leaned into him. “You two are already so alike that it’s scary. She even snores like you do.”

“Matt Casey, I do not snore—!”

He leaned down to kiss her as she was scolding him, feeling as if a heavy weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He hadn’t known what to expect when he had walked in earlier, but he should have guessed. This woman in his arms was about as opposite from his ex-wife as it was possible to be, a fact of which he was silently thanking his lucky stars for as she deepened the kiss for a moment before pulling away.

“Thank you for being you, Sylvie Brett,” he murmured, kissing the tip of her nose before pulling back to beam at her with that patented Matt Casey gaze of approval.

He got a patently unimpressed wrinkling of her nose in response, which he merely kissed again.

“Rude. I’m supposed to still be mad at you, and you go and say stuff like that,” she grumbled.

“You can yell at me some more later,” he promised fondly. “I will go see Julie tomorrow and apologize. I still feel like she’s not being fair about this, but I will go apologize for how I acted.”

Sylvie nodded, slightly appeased. “That’s all I ask.”

He nodded, moving to the couch to pick up his bag. “I’m gonna go get a quick shower, and then start dinner. Stir fry and rice sound good?”

“Sure.” She agreed, returning to her spot on the couch as he walked away.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, in Fowlerton...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Americans :) I am celebrating the day in the spirit for which it has become known for now -a day to give thanks for life, family, and friends-, without dismissing or ignoring the complicated truths and actual history of the day. I hope that you are all doing well and are being safe now so that we can truly come together and celebrate next year.
> 
> Also, 35 days left in 2020! Stay safe, everyone, and enjoy the chapter!

Casey went through the motions of showering and starting a load of laundry before wandering back out, still marveling at the enigma of a woman whom had completely taken over his life and heart. Their first -he couldn’t even call it an argument- disagreement, and it had been resolved so quickly and easily that it still took his breath away.

Maybe they were going to be okay, he thought as he began pulling out the ingredients for dinner. If they could truly keep up this level of honesty and openness and listening to each other, then maybe they could last for the long haul.

He knew that it was incredibly early to be thinking that way, considering that they had been officially dating for just under a week, but they had been building up to this for so long now that it felt like that they had been unofficially *something* more than friends for over a year before that.

“Dammit!”

Startled out of his thoughts, Casey looked up in surprise as his normally sweet and mild tempered girlfriend jumped up and started cursing and pacing, all while glaring at her phone.

“That conniving little witch! She did this on purpose!”

His brows shot up as his eyes widened. “Sylvie?” he said cautiously, deciding to stay put when her laser blue gaze focused on him. “I’m going to take a wild guess and assume that you’re talking about Hope. What has she done now?”

Her former best friend was the only ‘she’ he could think of that could get her riled up to the point of cursing.

“Hope had emailed me the same morning that I got the paper invitation to her and Kyle’s wedding, but I deleted it without opening it,” Sylvie began. “This one I opened today on accident, because she sent it from Kyle’s email account. She knows that we’re still friends and that I wouldn’t ignore him.”

Casey nodded, swallowing the instinctive protest at that little revelation as she continued. “She was checking to see if I was going to accept the invitation and peace offering – her words, not mine – to the wedding and to be her bridesmaid.” Huffing, she tossed her phone down on the couch in disgust. “I had replied back, accepting the invitation and mentioning that I would be bringing a date, but I told her that I couldn’t commit to being a bridesmaid with my work schedule and commitments here, and the wedding being in Indiana, there would be no way for me to do so.”

She growled under her breath, glaring at her phone as he watched cautiously. “I was very PC and polite, filled that email with so much flowery and sugary BS that even Chief Huffhinds would be impressed.”

“So, you’re free and clear, right? I mean, yeah, we still have to endure the wedding itself, but at least it will be a weekend away, and you’ll be able to see your family…”

“Not even close.” She shook her head in frustration, blond hair flying as he trailed off. “They’re having the wedding here. In Chicago. In two weeks.”

“What?!?”

“Yup. Full blown church wedding, with all the bells and whistles and sparkles,” she nodded resignedly. “Do you know how long it takes to plan a wedding like that? You have to start months in advance, which means that Hope moved in on Kyle pretty much right after I left!”

Casey opened his mouth, but she rolled right over him without letting him reply, which was probably just as well since there was really nothing positive to say about that particular revelation either.

“But you know what? Fine. Kyle is a good guy, and if he found some kind of happiness with her, then fantastic. I’m happy for him,” she continued grimly, her tone suggesting the exact opposite of her words. “Which is why I am still determined to see this through, and then I can wash my hands of all of them. But don’t you see? This is why she waited until the last minute to send her invitation, and now why she made a point of assuring me that she is willing to work around my work schedule so that I can participate in everything!” She made a muffled sound of frustration. “She planned this entire thing, and deliberately put everything in motion before she asked me to be a bridesmaid so that I couldn’t refuse!”

Casey whistled slowly, moving to stand in front of her. “Wait. So not only do we have to endure multiple encounters of Hope and Sheffield together, the first time I am going to meet your parents may be at the wedding of your ex best friend and former fiancée?” He shook his head slowly. “Holy fuck, Sylvie.”

Her full lips quirked at his cursing, rueful humor in her eyes. “But wait, there’s more.”

He stopped in his tracks to stare at her. “It’s Hope. Of course there’s more,” he groaned after a moment, closing his eyes.

“Not only did I receive that email from Hope – which I’m not finished with, by the way – I also received one from my parents on the same morning that I received the invitation, that I apparently also missed or accidently deleted. My stupid, idiotic asshat of a brother surprised them with tickets for a cruise for their anniversary, which just happens to set sail the same weekend as Hope’s wedding! So not only are they not coming, but my mom has already assured me that they have given Hope her wedding gift early and know that I will be more than adequate representation for the family in supporting her on her wedding day! So I really can’t say no or change my mind now!”

“Okay, but –“

“Oh, there’s still more,” she warned darkly. “In another email that I got just now, since apparently she is stalking me and knows when I read the first one, she said that she wanted to ask Kelly to be a groomsman for Kyle since he doesn’t have a lot of friends out here or in Fowlerton, but didn’t want to cause anything with Stella, so if I could ask him for her then she would forever be in my debt. She remembered that I told her that it was against the rules to date a coworker within the same firehouse, so this way we’re killing two birds with one stone. I get a friend to partner off with and walk down the aisle, and Kyle gets a work acquaintance with whom he was at least cordial with.”

“If this is a joke, it’s not funny, Syl.”

“Not joking. Read for yourself.” She pulled up the email on her tablet and handed it to him, watching the various expressions flit across his face as he read.

“She’s either criminally stupid or criminally evil genius,” he said in awe, slightly impressed despite himself. “So, what are you going to do?”

It was a rhetorical question, and they both knew it.

“What can I do? She’s got me right where she wants me,” Sylvie exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air and collapsing on the couch, narrowly missing her phone as she buried her face into a pillow with a muffled scream. “I guess I need to talk to Stella and Kelly.”

Casey grimaced. “I’ll go hide the knives and warn Severide to take her keys before they come over,” he replied resignedly, holding his hands out to her.

She pouted, peeking out from underneath the pillow, but let him pull her up into his arms for a hug. “First Julie, now this. Maybe we should’ve just stayed in bed today,” she grumped, burying her face in his chest and letting his familiar smoke and cedar scent fill her senses. “And I should’ve blocked Hope’s email like Stella suggested a long time ago.”

“Little late for that, Sunshine. And you would’ve immediately felt guilty and removed the block before you ever got anything from her,” he replied fondly, kissing the top of her head. “But I will definitely listen to you from now on whenever you want to stay in bed.” His eyes glinted with sudden mischief. “Unless of course, it’s a workday, and only then if you call in sick to Chief for the both of us.”

“Rude, Matthew Casey. Making me lie to our boss,” she mumbled, pinching his sides and making him laugh. “You’re the Captain, Captain – isn’t that your responsibility?”

He snorted. “Yeah, but Chief likes you better, golden girl,” he teased. “Which is why he wouldn’t suspect the lie coming from you, especially since you’re a horrible liar anyway. He knows all my tells.”

“Hmph.”

Casey went to move away, but she tightened her arms and made a muffled sound of protest. “Stay. Comfortable.”

He obediently planted his feet, bracing them both and enjoying the moment and the feel of her in his arms, silently marveling all over again at how right it felt.

It was such a simple gesture; people gave and accepted hugs all the time, in greeting and farewell. Casey personally had always shied away from initiating physical contact whenever possible, preferring the clear social boundaries of a handshake or a friendly nod. His partners had usually been the ones to make the first move, although he had no qualms about taking over once started.

Most of the women he had gravitated towards hadn’t been nearly as casually affectionate as the woman currently in his arms. It humbled him, how easily she let herself be vulnerable enough to accept and give moments of comfort like this, without looking for motive or seeking to lull him into a sense of security and weakness. There was no artifice with Sylvie; she trusted and loved and believed until you gave her irrevocable proof for her to no longer do so. Casey still didn’t fully understand how she hadn’t become jaded and cynical by the job, their life, and the city, but he did know to the depths of his soul that she was too pure and good for him. She seemed intent on keeping him though, so he wasn’t going to destroy his life by trying to convince her otherwise.

“You are definitely a better teddy bear than Cruz,” she said lightly after a moment, leaning back to look up at him, her eyes dancing with laughter.

He huffed a laugh, brought back to the present. “Even though I’m not as squishy?”

“You are where it counts,” she smirked, and pinched his butt.

His jaw dropped. “Oh, that’s it!”

She squealed with laughter as he attacked her ribs and sides with lightning fast fingers, but instead of squirming to get away she leaned up and into his touch and captured his mouth with hers, still bubbling with giggles.

He instantly responded, his hands slowing to rest on her hips as she rose up on her toes, pressing closer.

“What was that for?” he murmured against her lips, slightly breathless, when she finally slowly drew away.

“Just because I wanted to. Because I can,” she replied lightly, pecking the tip of his nose before slipping out of his hands to grab her phone. “Do you have enough ingredients to make stir fry for Stella and Severide too, or should we delay the inevitable and meet them at Molly’s for drinks and a public setting?” She said only half joking, glancing up at him when he didn’t immediately respond.

She watched in silent amusement as he blinked at her in bemusement before replying. “I have enough for all of us, but we need something for dessert. Tell Kidd I want some of that apple crumble that she was bragging about Cindy making for her.”

“I swear, that woman needs to start her own bakery just to sate 51’s sweet tooth,” she teased as she typed. “Either that, or team up with Daria and Tyler.”

They were both well aware of the Herrmann family’s constant financial troubles, despite Molly’s finally beginning to steadily pull its weight. Their oldest son, Lee Henry, had finally settled on Northwestern University and a business degree, much to his father’s chagrin and delight. Despite Herrmann’s grumbling over the years about his son’s grades, he had managed to qualify and earn enough scholarships to lighten some of the financial burden off of his parents, but there were still four more to think of and prepare for, so any opportunity for either parent to pull in some additional income would no doubt be welcomed.

“You make that happen, and you better sweet talk Olivia into a serious friends and family discount for spin class,” he teased back with a grin, dodging as she swatted at him on his way back to the kitchen and the veggies that he had been chopping before she had started checking her email. Veggies made more sense than understanding the silently amused blonde still watching him from under the cover of her lashes as she finished her text to Stella, her lips curved in a secret smile.

There was a cursory knock on the door barely five minutes later, before it opened and Stella came bursting through.

“About time I got an invite from you two! We see each other nearly every day, and this is the first time that I’ve been here since you moved in.” She exclaimed, peering eagerly around the apartment before sweeping Sylvie up into a hug and giving Casey a friendly hip bump before dumping a container of food into his hands. “Your apple crisp, Capt. I knew you were going to steal mine, so I had Cindy make a second one,” she grinned up at him when his eyes widened in delight. “I was going to use it as bribery to get an invite over here, but you two finally came out of your love nest, so I didn’t have to resort to more sinister measures.”

He snorted, well used to her teasing. “I just figured you’d borrow Sev’s key and invite yourself over eventually.” He shrugged, taking the dessert over to the kitchen and putting it in the warmer as his best friend ambled in.

“Mm, I thought about it, but decided that it was better to give you two some privacy for a bit longer,” Stella teased, plopping down on the couch. “Figured it was the least I could do after all those mornings that you left early because of “paperwork” at work.” She made exaggerated air quotes.

“That was actually truly my primary motive, but let’s be honest, my escaping was just as much for my sanity as it was yours,” he replied dryly. “But thanks.”

“At least you got an actual invite,” Severide pointed out as he joined his girlfriend, perching on the armrest next to her.

Casey rolled his eyes, shooting his friend a sardonically dry glare. “Give me my key back and stop inviting yourself over, and maybe you’ll get one,” he retorted, as Sylvie continued flitting around in the background, nibbling nervously on her thumbnail as she paced.

Their friends exchanged a look before raising their brows at him. He widened his eyes in response.

“Brett, honey, you want to tell us what’s going on?” Stella said. “You’re looking a little stressed over there.”

That was apparently the signal that the blonde needed to spill. “Hope and Kyle are getting married. Next month.”

Stella opened her mouth, but Casey stopped her with a warning shake of his head. “There’s more.”

“And I tried to say no to the bridesmaid thing because we were just gonna go to the wedding, but then she told me that they’re having it here in Chicago so I can’t use work and travel as an excuse, and she wanted me to ask if Kelly would be a groomsman to my bridesmaid and I didn’t tell her that Casey and I are dating even though I mentioned that I was bringing a date, but if I say no then I’m going to have to explain to my parents and to hers exactly why, and my mom is better at guilt tripping than anyone I’ve met except maybe Chief Boden!”

Casey silently held out a glass of her favorite rosé wine, which she gulped down as their friends processed her jumbled, rambling explanation.

“Wow.” Stella said finally.

“I know, right?” Sylvie groaned, starting to pace again. “Hope and I grew up together. Our parents met while they were on their honeymoons. They’re family. I can’t disappoint them, no matter what I personally feel about her now.”

“Even though your supposed best friend is now engaged to your ex fiancée?” Severide scowled. “That’s some shady BS to me if they would support her over your feelings.”

“Except that I broke things off, not Kyle,” she pointed out. “And Hope and I played nice while I was in Fowlerton with him. They all believed whatever lies she told them about her time here in Chicago, including Kyle, and I didn’t see the point of revealing the truth at the time, because we had to coexist in the same small-minded little town.”

“So, then they will just assume that Kelly was asked because he’s your friend and worked with all three of you at one point or another,” Stella said slowly, her mind already racing ahead.

“Why not just tell Hope that you two are dating?” Severide interrupted before his girlfriend could continue.

Casey and Sylvie exchanged a look.

“Because it’s more believable for you to be a groomsman than me,” he answered finally. “Sheffield and I weren’t close when he was working for the CFD, and I wasn’t exactly receptive when he tried to get me to talk about that near shooting incident last year.” He grimaced at the memory, shaking his head as he met his friend’s sudden narrowed glare.

Stella beat Severide to it this time, turning an equally suspicious glare on her Captain. “You said you were fine,” she accused.

“And I was. I am,” he snapped irritably. “Let it go, both of you.”

“It’s actually my fault,” Brett broke in, though she didn’t let Casey totally off the hook either. “I’ve learned that you firefighters use ‘fine’ as a four-letter word default for everything from third degree burns to concussions to broken ribs.” She returned her boyfriend’s warning glare with a pointed one of her own. “You were not fine, by any sane, logical definition when I went to check on you.”

“You suggested that I talk to someone, and I did. Eventually.”

“After you reamed Herrmann out, gave him Clinginpill as a floater to replace Ritter when he got hurt, and stomped around growling and snapping at everyone else for a full two shifts after I suggested it,” she retorted as Kidd and especially Severide watched in amusement.

He was intrigued and fascinated by the dynamics and sparks flying between his friends. On the surface, it was a weirdly civil conversation, even though teeth were gritted, and emotions were tightly leashed. That was the difference though, he realized. Fights between Casey and Dawson had always ended with yelling and frustration and someone storming out while emotions ran hot and high. Only after they had cooled down individually and gone to outside sources to vent (Casey to him, Dawson to Brett or maybe even Mills, at one point), did they come back together to resolve things, if they had time. Usually something bigger than them happened to bring them back together (Mills and Brett being abducted, Dawson getting pregnant), and whatever issues that they had went unresolved and ignored in the face of the new challenge.

That definitely wasn’t the case with Casey and Brett though. They were consciously leashing their emotions and visibly attempting to be open and communicate, no matter how they personally felt about doing so.

Severide knew how big of a step this was, especially for his fiercely private and stubbornly independent brother and best friend. He hoped Brett realized it too, the depth of love and trust that Casey was putting into her by letting himself be vulnerable in front of his friends and subordinates. Which they were, all three of them, no matter how much the Squad Lt. gave his friend crap about it. Of the three of them, Casey was actually in the most danger as a Captain, dating a coworker of lesser rank.

“Well, I certainly wasn’t going to open up to the guy you were dating at the time, especially after he let it slip that the only reason that he came to talk to me was because of you in the first place!”

Her eyes widened in shock, then narrowed at Casey, who returned her glare with a knowing glint in his eyes. Challenge. Accepted.

“The point is,” she said primly to Severide after a moment. “Casey and Kyle aren’t even acquaintances now, no matter what their past relationship was like. At least Kyle was there for you when your father died, and also for Cruz when Chloe was in that pile up accident.” She grimaced, a silent apology in her eyes as she looked at him. He shrugged, knowing that it was a valid point.

“Frankly, I think you did the right thing, not telling Hope that you two are dating,” Stella broke in hastily. “I don’t trust that girl whatsoever, and she’s definitely devious enough to report you two – or us – to Internal Affairs for fraternizing with a co-worker.” She stopped as Casey smirked, suddenly looking like the cat who ate the canary. “Something you want to share with the class there, Casey?”

“Oh, only that Hope is in for a huge surprise and a rude awakening if she tries to report us,” he drawled smugly. “But that’s politician stuff. The details of it shouldn’t concern first responders like yourselves.”

“Casey!”

“Casey!”

Sylvie didn’t bother to scold; just launched the pillow that Severide tossed her, nailing her smirking boyfriend squarely in his face.

“Nice shot.” Severide praised lazily.

“Thanks. Appreciate the assist.”

“Cap, I’d start talking before these two actively start plotting your demise,” Stella warned, laughter filling her voice. “I can’t promise that I won’t help either, so…”

He groaned, still snickering as he sat up. “Fine.” Clearing his throat, he closed his eyes and recited pompously, “A personal relationship between two members of CFD personnel is now allowable as long as they: Do not work within the same units and are not a Candidate and an Officer of rank, or are two Officers of rank within the same unit.” He smirked again as their jaws dropped. “One of my finer and quieter accomplishments during my time as Alderman, I think.”

“Wait. You actually got the stubborn old brass at HQ to change the regs?” Severide said in disbelief.

“Well, technically Tamera pushed it through, since my doing so would be an obvious conflict of interest, but I did the groundwork and personally reworked the language,” Casey shrugged. “Tamera finalized it and went through all the proper channels until she got to Grissom himself. He never stood a chance. We should have sicced her on Gorsch too; he would’ve slunk out of here like a whipped puppy within the first week. I think it’s the teacher thing.”

“And you didn’t think to mention this oh, I don’t know, when Stella and I got back together?”

“It didn’t apply to you two, so no.” Casey shrugged nonchalantly, sliding a wink at Kidd. “You’re an officer, and she’s the one firefighter on Truck that you will never be able to poach for Squad 3, no matter her rank. You can’t have Cruz and Kidd both, you greedy ass.”

“Aww, Casey. You went through all of that just so Kelly couldn’t steal me away from Truck? That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,” Kidd teased, clasping her hands together and batting her eyelashes exaggeratedly. “Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”

“That’s probably your stomach growling,” Sylvie laughed. “Let’s move this over to the kitchen before it gets too late.”

They agreed, and Casey went to heat up the wok while she refilled drinks. Stella offered to play sous-chef so Kelly and Sylvie could talk. The pair returned to the couch for some privacy, settling in to face each other.

“Let’s say that I agree to do this,” Severide began quietly. “What exactly are we talking about? I just have to show up on the day and walk you down the aisle, right? Maybe some pictures and stuff? Not all the extra stuff I did for Cruz though.”

“Dress and tux fitting, walk me down the aisle, pictures, and probably at least one dance during the reception.” Sylvie replied, wrinkling her nose.

“Such a sacrifice that you’re asking of me, but I think I can handle that,” he teased, grinning as she shoved him lightly. “C’mon Sylvie. Of course I’ll do it. For you though, not for Hope or Sheffield.”

“Thank you.” She sighed, glancing over to where Casey and Kidd were laughing and joking. “I didn’t tell Matt, but Hope said in a different email that if I didn’t get you to agree, then she would ask Harrison to partner me instead.”

“Harrison, as in your first ex? The smarmy douchebag that sent you running for Chicago in the first place?” He growled.

“Shhh!” She hissed. “And yes. The one and same.” She grimaced, shaking her head. “We all grew up together and ran in the same crowd, so he’s probably going to be a groomsman anyway. I don’t want to tell Matt because he already hates that I’m doing any of this at all. He thinks that I should tell everyone the truth and let Hope deal with the fallout and consequences for once.”

Severide cocked his head, studying her for a moment. “That’s not your style though.”

She nodded, surprised that he got it when she had assumed that he would be on Casey’s side. He smiled crookedly.

“Casey is fully aware of that too, which is why he hasn’t said anything else.” He paused, watching her carefully. “It’s going to drive him crazy to just sit back while you do all of this without him, even with me there instead, you know.” And he was fully aware that the only reason that the other man wasn’t getting all up in arms was because he trusted Severide to watch Sylvie’s back and protect her, physically and emotionally.

Not that either man would actually verbalize such a thing out loud, since that just wasn’t how their friendship worked, but it went without saying anyway.

“It’s my friends and family too. I can handle myself,” she said dismissively, standing up. “You will be there as verbal backup only.”

“Uh huh. I’m just there as your arm candy. Got it.”

“If I wanted arm candy, then I‘d be taking your girlfriend as my date, not you,” she teased as Stella looked up.

“Hey I do look pretty smoking in a tux,” she called, winking at her friend. “We could totally mess with Hope and us girls go together and you guys show up later together. Make her thinking that sleeping with Kelly turned him into a switch hitter.”

She and Brett collapsed into helpless giggles at the twin looks of male disgust that they got in response.

“Annd that’s enough wine for you,” Casey said dryly, hip bumping Kidd to get her to move out of the way so that he could grab the bottle. He was more silently amused at the idea of the girls going together and what the chaplain would make of that, rather than messing with Hope, but the idea was entertaining in general. “Food’s up, guys.”

It took a bit of maneuvering, but they eventually got plates, silverware, and seats sorted out. The conversation turned to more general topics as the four friends caught up on individual developments in their personal lives that got swept aside in the day to day of rush of firehouse life.

“So I will reply to Hope, and let her know that you are agreeing to do this,” Brett told Severide as they were preparing to leave.

“I am not clearing my schedule to waste my time enduring being in the same room as Hope Jockinaw,” he warned. “Make that clear up front. I don’t need to go to the tux fittings; I can wear the one I bought for Cruz’s wedding. That leaves the actual wedding itself, and possibly the reception.”

She nodded. “Copy that,” she said fervently. “Believe me, I want to do this even less than you do. And Hope doesn’t really want us there either, so she already covered that. You do need to go pick up the accessories, like the tie and stuff, but it doesn’t have to be a thing with the group. She sent me pictures of the bridesmaid dress so I know what to ask for, so we can just go sometime next week to pick that up and get your things as well. If we’re really lucky we won’t have to see either her or Kyle until the actual day.”

He shot her a skeptical look, making her wrinkle her nose. “Okay, so I doubt that will actually happen, but let me have my delusions for the moment, okay? It’s been a long day.”

“Uh huh.”

She scowled at him, making him grin, before raising her voice. “And Matt and Stella, you two are coming to the reception. I don’t care what she says. If nothing else, it’s a chance to dress up and dance and drink champagne at Hope’s expense.”

“Oh, there’s no way that I’m missing that,” Stella snorted. “Good night you two; we’ll see you tomorrow.”


	28. Chapter 28

Hey everyone,  
So I know it's been a few months, but well, #2020. Quick recap: Last summer, I was dealing with some medical issues due to excessively heavy cycles and iron deficiency. I had surgery -an ablation- to counter/resolve some of those issues.

That surgery did not work as expected, and I am due to have a hysterectomy next month (March 3rd).

Now, usually I would just leave it at that, but in addition to affecting my life in general, it also honestly affects the outcome of this particular story, because of the original plan I had for the ending.  
*SPOILERS*  
Originally, my plan was to have Casey and Brett go to Hope's wedding, and for Hope to make a deliberate offhand comment about how much he must love Sylvie to be with her even after Gabby had recently died of childbirth complications, and Sylvie herself was unable to get pregnant without risking her own life. Casey of course, storms out, BUT after a conversation with Severide and then with Brett, realizes that he doesn't necessarily want biological children anyway because of his family history, and Sylvie points out that they can still have children with a surrogate or adoption or both, and that she would actually prefer that for a bunch of various, obvious reasons. I even had Stella offering (mostly jokingly) to be that surrogate, teasing that Casey and Severide were practically brothers anyway, so their kids might as well come from the same womb.

Nice, right? I was so proud of myself, had the outline all worked out, and...I couldn't do it. Something about this is giving me a mental writing block, where I thought (hoped) it would be a sort of self therapy. It's taken me six months, but I have come to the conclusion that I need to just put this story on permanent hiatus, and at some point I will eventually come back to it and write that happy ending for this story.

I just wanted to give a general update, and to say thank you to those of you who have commented or just stopped by to leave kudos, even when there has been no response. From the bottom of my heart, thank you - I do see and appreciate every one of you.

The good news is, just because this story is going on hiatus, does not mean that I won't be writing at all. I have a new story in the works, which I will actually begin posting sometime today. Still Casey/Brett, with the other couples and friendships and snarky humor that I love. I hope you enjoy it as much as you did this one.

-Tia


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